by Cindy Mezni
“Azarius!” I exclaimed, plastering a delighted smile on my face that was purely hypocritical. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit from you and your brothers?”
I had a hard time not revealing my antipathy in these words. Anyway, there was nothing new, neither to them nor anybody, that the Trackers were anything but liked. After all, they meant bad news wherever they went.
I couldn’t help but observe them with attention. You had to admit it, for executioners, they were far from being disgusting. Physically speaking, at least. I was certain that if Azarius hadn’t been so narcissistic and haughty, he could have pleased me. Fair hair down to his neck framing a face with typically male features and a square jaw. He had green eyes, lighter than mine, and undeniable charisma. His two acolytes were also pleasant to look at, Mëyäs having ebony hair and Anekan being a redhead. But it wasn’t so surprising for them to be handsome when they were supposed to represent the elite of our race.
“We cannot visit a friend?”
It meant an ally and not the proper sense of the word. Either you were a friend of the High Instances or you were an enemy, an exile or a traitor, and it was necessary to eradicate you from the earth’s surface. Unfortunately, to be a friend of High Executives didn’t assure you stayed alive. I was the proof of that. Even though I was certain they weren’t here to execute me, they were maybe there to take me back to Néfrat or, even worse, make sure to keep me at hand until the High Instances arrived and I could be executed before their eyes. That way, they would already be on-site to appoint the next sovereign of New Hell. I swallowed with difficulty upon thinking that.
“I’m pleased to see you’re in good company,” Azarius told me, nodding toward Caine. “According to what I could see, Caine coaches your subjects very well. It’s a good thing.”
I nodded my approval to the words of the leader of the Trackers, even if it cost me to recognize Caine’s qualities when he was a real asshole to me.
“So you are Xander,” Anekan said by coming toward the Reaper and looking annoyed for an unknown reason.
“Indeed,” Xander answered, imperturbable.
“I imagined you more . . . impressive,” Anekan added in the same tone.
I bit my lower lip to repress a laugh. What a relevant comment. For the best of our race, we’ll look elsewhere finally. Caine didn’t hesitate to let a derisive smile play on his lips at the Tracker’s words.
“You surround yourself with the best,” Azarius noticed again after he’d glared at Anekan. “Xander’s reputation is well-established. That of your other Councilors, too.”
He looked at the surrounding area as if searching for something or somebody.
“By the way, where is this dear Nathanael?” Azarius questioned me. “I’m really surprised to not see him here, he who’s so anxious to assure himself of your physical integrity in any circumstances.”
Not wanting to laugh anymore, I clenched my teeth, not appreciating the allusion more than inappropriate on my relationship with Nathanael. I should have known that he knew about it. I wondered how such information could have reached the High Instances’ ears. Damn it! It was the kind of thing that could remind Néfrat that he still hadn’t been entitled to my favors and could encourage him to summon me to him in order to remedy the situation. There was nothing I wanted less than to lie down with that Nëphyrian fossil. Yet, what was more important to me right now was that I had to find a way not to tell the Trackers that Nathanael had left New Hell. Such announcement could incite them to focus their attention on the situation of the clan and, as soon as they would know what wasn’t right, I was a goner.
“He’s taking some rest,” Venom said, arriving from nowhere. “I have to say that, given the enthusiasm with which he checked my physical integrity, he had a good reason to be exhausted.”
I couldn’t refrain from opening my eyes wide. What the Devil was she doing here? And why was she saying this? Was she trying to help me or take her revenge for her detention and almost execution by organizing some crazy plan? Knowing her and her whims, I expected anything from her. Azarius looked her up and down, then observed me in the same way. He eventually focused on Venom and didn’t even try to hide the grimace of disgust on his face.
“Nathanael goes down in my estimation. I didn’t know we could stoop so low after having had a taste of the best.”
Shocked, Venom opened her mouth. Even if the part about me was rather pleasant to hear, I hadn’t seen Azarius’s retort about Venom coming. His two Trackers brothers burst out laughing.
“‘Stoop so low?’” Venom repeated, still stupefied, before her face became a mask of wrath. “Fuck you, son of a—”
Azarius gave her no time to finish her sentence; he slapped her with strength. Due to the force of the blow, Venom ended up spread out on the ground.
“How dare you talk to me with so much disrespect?” Azarius asked her, full of rage. “Just for that, I ought to break your little neck of mindless bitch immediately.”
I kept silent, surprised to see how the Tracker in chief was beside himself with anger. He who was usually so quiet and in full possession of his senses. There was no doubt about it, he was easily riled. I should remember having no inappropriate words in his presence.
“I—”
“Enough is enough!” Azarius said to Venom who’d been about to retort something to defend herself.
At least I had to recognize that Venom’s intervention had been useful for me. Now Azarius didn’t care about Nathanael anymore.
“If I want to hear you, I’ll tell you to. In the meantime, you keep your mouth shut, Prosä*.” He paused, breathing deeply as to calm down, before resuming. “And for your information, know that when I say you’re nothing compared to your Queen, I’m still far from the truth.” [* Scum of the earth (in this context)]
For sure, Venom hadn’t made a friend. I was certain Azarius was the kind to harbor a grudge against an enemy until his death or, more exactly, until he’d killed him. I had a feeling Venom would be well-advised to stay alert because Azarius probably would do anything to find a pretext to execute her.
“Out of my sight! Now!” he said to Venom.
Venom didn’t need to be told twice and went away briskly while trying to preserve a semblance of dignity by not running away like a weak and frightened creature. Still, she didn’t fail to give me a dirty look before leaving. It wasn’t as if I’d asked her to intervene. She had only herself to blame for this public humiliation.
“You should only surround yourself with males,” Azarius advised me in a calm voice when Venom was far. “With the exception of you, rare are the females who aren’t controlled by their . . . urges.”
The allusion was clear: by ‘urges’ he meant ‘hormones.’ It was obvious he hadn’t a high esteem of the fairer sex. I abstained from telling him that many males also indulged themselves and that I, too, tended to do so.
“Rest assured, Venom hasn’t been a member of my Council for some time already.”
Azarius cracked a satisfied smile.
“I knew you were an intelligent female.”
I retorted nothing, appreciating the fact that we’d changed the subject and he’d forgotten about Nathanael. Silence took over, only disrupted by some murmurs coming from the group that Caine was coaching before the arrival of the Trackers.
“Shall we take a walk, my dearest Queen?” Azarius asked by offering me a gloved hand.
I looked at his outstretched hand warily. His request augured nothing well. My instinct was on maximum alert. If he wanted to talk to me in private, it was because he had to tell me about something important. But it wasn’t as if I had the choice. I offered him a smile a little too stilted to be sincere before taking hold of his hand.
“Mëm sëia fen’tescä,*” Azarius ordered his acolytes before pulling me away from the small crowd of Nëphyr. [* Stay here, you two.]
We started walking away. Very quickly, we found ourselves at a distance so nobody could hear
us. The silence between us was more than heavy, for me at least. I was persuaded that this “walk” was an ominous sign.
“Let’s get to the heart of the matter, Azarius.”
“Straight to the point, I like it,” he said with approval.
The way he kept changing his manner of expressing himself, moving from the XVIIth to the XXIth century without transition and making a detour by the Nëphrä language, was starting to annoy me. Could he not simply choose a way of speaking and limit himself to it?
“What’s happening?”
His smile slowly turned into an expression I was familiar with. Pure sadism. Azarius was about to give me some news and he took an obvious perverse pleasure in making me wait for it.
“Néfrat asked me to tell you some little things.”
I didn’t like that one bit. But even if I was on my guard, I couldn’t help but be curious to know what message this old Néfrat had asked Azarius to deliver to me.
“As you know, Ezekiel is considered a traitor by every one of our race—”
“Indeed, you tell me nothing new there,” I interrupted him, contemptuous even if I was intrigued, too, because why the Devil was he speaking about Ezekiel?
Azarius grumbled, disgruntled by my interruption.
“Other Trackers and I are still looking for him. But strangely, he’s still nowhere to be found. We don’t doubt he kept a low profile to be forgotten, but it seems he’s not alone. Or, to be more precise, that he’s having some help and he’s planning something. Unfortunately, even if we are capable,” he pinched his lips, as if admitting his failure was unbearable to him, “our troops aren’t sufficient for us to exclusively focus on his search, especially after . . . how can I formulate it . . . the misdemeanors of the Afrïan clan.”
“I heard about it,” I said, speaking about said clan and hoping Azarius knew nothing of Ezekiel’s traitors who’d been within my house until lately. “The latest news said the clan split into two and both camps are at war. There are even rumors about a possible intervention of the Bane in order to put an end to all of it.”
As far as I knew, not a single Nëphyr ignored what was happening among the biggest clan of our race. According to what everybody said, it was nearly anarchy over there and the ground had become ebony, the color of blood of Nëphyr shed by my own kin. And a rumor, certainly justified, said the Bane—or Kemshiëm in Nëphrä—was going to be called soon to do the cleaning by the means of the Exitiumaë, the gift which he was the only one to possess and which consisted in reducing to the state of ashes a being or hundreds or even thousands by direct or indirect contact. I’d never seen the Bane at work, but it looked like it was something.
“It’s the truth.” he sighed, looking bothered. “We have to go there urgently to restore order with the help of Kemshiëm.”
It was the procedure when a clan went out of control. The High Instances arrived, accompanied with their little army and executed the leaders of the on-going war and their seconds-in-command and appointed new persons to manage the clan. And when the situation was as disastrous as in this particular case, they also called in this dear Bane to restore peace among the clan as quickly as possible.
“Let’s come back to Ezekiel, would you?” I asked. “Why did you come to talk to me about him, especially if you have nothing new about him?”
As these words came out of my mouth, I got it. If Azarius and his brothers were here, it was because Néfrat suspected me of being in league with Ezekiel. He thought I was his accomplice. It was the only reason that could explain why the Trackers were here. My blood started boiling in my veins.
“How can Néfrat believe I’m helping this Mëvia?” I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming furiously.
Azarius shot me a triumphant smile which angered me even more. All of a sudden, I wanted to disfigure him with violent punches.
“I believe there’s a mistake,” he said without telling more, the same expression still on his face.
The effects of my irritation dissipated and gave way to incomprehension and suspicion.
“In other words?”
“Néfrat absolutely does not believe you’re helping Ezekiel. Still, it’s interesting to know you believed he did.”
He chuckled briefly as if there was something funny before he pulled himself together.
“If I didn’t know to what extent you hate Ezekiel, I could doubt the certainties Néfrat has when it comes to you.”
I sighed loudly to let him know I was annoyed. Instead of wasting my time in suppositions and useless discussions, could he not just come to the point?
“Tell me, which link there is between Ezekiel and I and why you’re here,” I said to him as I forced myself to keep calm and not raise my voice.
I certainly didn’t want to get slapped in the face like Venom a few minutes ago. No doubt, however, that he clearly felt how close I was to losing control. And I was certain this damned Tracker liked it.
“Néfrat asked me to offer you a . . . compromise,” he finally revealed to me. “Given that the High Instances and we, Trackers, are going to be very busy in the time to come, Néfrat wants to put you in charge of finding Ezekiel and—”
“I beg your pardon?”
He hadn’t just said what I thought I heard him say. It was impossible. Totally, completely, absolutely impossible. First, because it wasn’t my work—it was their exile, not mine, damn it!—and second, because I had more urgent things to do than to go looking for him. Not to mention I was sure that, if I did that, I had as many chances to come out alive from a confrontation with Ezekiel that if I’d been human and had shot myself in the head. And when I thought about it, finding him indeed amounted to a suicide.
“I don’t want to pursue Ezekiel,” I announced categorically.
Azarius’s jaw tensed up. Any casualness had abandoned him now. He was serious. Deadly serious.
“I wasn’t finished. Néfrat wants you to find his trail and contact us when you do. We have to get Ezekiel alive.”
I doubted my ability to warn them if ever I found him, but I didn’t point this out to Azarius. Anyway, it was clear I wasn’t going after Ezekiel, period.
“And why is that so?” I still asked with suspicion.
“There are things you don’t have to know.”
Definitely, this damn Tracker was testing my self-control. I was that close to give in, which wasn’t recommended given the temperament of the Nëphyr in front of me who could allow himself to do anything because being mandated by the High Instances gave him the right to do so.
“I refuse to—”
“Let me expose you all the elements before refusing, Nemesis,” Azarius advised me. “As we are in the incapacity to take care of Ezekiel at the moment but we cannot let him free any longer to implement his dark schemes, you’re the most likely to accomplish this mission given your common past and your ties. But Néfrat knew you would be unwilling to accept this task. This is why he set a condition before you refuse.”
I suddenly understood what it meant. A condition, huh? It wasn’t a condition. No, it was something quite different. It was an order. An ultimatum.
“What will happen to me if I refuse?” I questioned him.
“You mean, what would happen to you if you refused?” he rectified, sending me a hypocritical smile. “Let’s just say we need a culprit for the murders of the former King of the Ameïan clan and his Queen and that certain clan sovereigns refuse for these crimes to remain unpunished any longer. Thus, if it isn’t Ezekiel, it will be someone else . . .”
“In other words, me.”
He didn’t bother to answer or nod. He didn’t need to. If I didn’t agree to find Ezekiel, I was going to suffer in his place the Never Ending Torment that was reserved for the exiles. By all the damned! Suddenly, having my head cut purely and simply appeared to me as an extremely enviable fate compared to what awaited me if I was accused of these murders I hadn’t committed. In both cases, the future didn’t announce under favorabl
e auspices for me. Either I set off in pursuit of Ezekiel and I had all the chances to die horribly when in front of him, or I refused to do it and I endured atrocious sufferings . . . but forever.
“However,” Azarius added, “Néfrat will grant you another possibility than the Selem Sescä if you don’t find Ezekiel or if you refuse to look for him.”
“Another option?” I couldn’t help but say in a biting tone. “Such generosity! Such nobility of soul! Definitely, Néfrat has everything of a saint!”
In a blink of an eye, Azarius’s hands were squeezing my neck with strength. He was watching me with his now luminous eyes and his sharp teeth of monster were only a few millimeters away from my face. I hadn’t been that close to death in a while.
“Don’t ever blaspheme like that again,” he said through clenched teeth. “I may have respect for you, but if you do it again, I swear I’ll take care of you. Néfrat is my master and I won’t tolerate any more remarks about him. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded my approval because I couldn’t express myself. He removed his gloved hands from my throat and put a respectable distance between us again.
“You still didn’t tell me what is this option that Néfrat gives me,” I pointed out to him as if the last moments had never existed.
“He gives you a choice between the Ultimate Punishment and joining the High Instances as his Parinrä.”
His announcement came as a bombshell. Every time I thought I had hit rock bottom, that I had known the worst, something new proved me wrong. This was one of those moments . . . except for one detail. This time, I knew I couldn’t fall any lower or suffer something worst because I’d reached the height of horror. Enduring the Never Ending Torment or becoming the partner of Néfrat forever. Out of the two options, I didn’t know which one was worse. There was no way I would endure that! Better be killed than be tortured forever or spend more than a year with this old pervert! In this case, better face Ezekiel and risk death than that!