But there was something else there, too.
Sorna drew in a sharp gasp when she saw the small demon present, still feeding on the dead bird. The creature looked up at her, bloodied feathers stuck to its face. It gave a loud hiss, unwilling to relinquish its meal.
The old woman let out a scream and hurled the wooden bucket she carried at the little beast, knocking the creature further back into the coop. Sorna was tempted to run and get her brother to deal with whatever it was, but she was reluctant to leave as the predator might kill more birds.
“It’s just a raccoon,” she said to herself, going over and picking up a flat shovel resting against the wall. “A mange-riddled raccoon.”
Sorna stepped further into the building, trying to see where the creature had gone. She bent down and squinted, seeing something cowering in one of the nesting boxes built into the back wall. Her eyesight wasn’t particularly sharp, but the beast’s grayish coloration truly did make her think she was seeing a sickly, hairless raccoon.
“All right you heathen pest,” she growled, readying to stab into the nesting box with the shovel. “I’ll teach you what happens to vermin on this farm!”
It hissed at her again and swiped out with one of its clawed hands, though she was out of reach.
Sorna braced herself and moved to plunge the shovel into the box, but when she tried, the shovel didn’t move. The hair on the back of her neck rose up as she realized something was holding the other end of the handle with a strong grip.
Slowly, she turned her head, already feeling her hands starting to shake as they slipped away from the wooden handle. Sorna held her breath, eyes slowly scanning up to a viciously clawed white hand.
Terrified, Sorna lost her balance and fell onto her seat. She scrambled back in the litter on the floor, trying to get away from the lithe, ghostly demon before her. Its red eyes bored into her, its lipless mouth gaping open to reveal rows of thin fangs.
“Jessup!” she screamed, doing her best to get turned over and reach the door. “Jessup, help!”
The white demon hurled the shovel against the wall of the coop and took several strides forward, its skeletal fingers wrapping around one of Sorna’s ankles and pulling her closer.
Sorna continued to scream for her brother, but he was in the main farmhouse and out of earshot. Feeling the cold grip the demon had on her, she redoubled her attempts to get away, growing frantic. Her fingertips were quickly bloodied as she struggled for purchase.
The demon straightened up, though not to its full height given the low ceiling within the coop. With one arm, it lifted the flailing woman up from the ground upside down. It bent sideways to look at Sorna once she was dangling helplessly from its grasp.
The old woman quit fighting, the strain of being held upside down making it difficult to breathe. She stared right back at the creature, defiant. “What do you want with me?”
The demon spoke, its harsh but undeniably feminine voice causing all the panicked chickens around them to fall silent. “You were going to murder one of the young ones.”
“It was eating a chicken!” Sorna shot back, her face going red from the pressure building in her head.
The demon shook Sorna slightly, viscous saliva dripping from its jaws. “You eat the chickens, too.”
Sorna screamed again when shaken, sending the chickens around them fluttering and squawking away. “I thought it was a raccoon!”
Though the smaller demons weren’t her children in the technical sense of the word, the demon-familiar had been the catalyst for the formerly non-physical, minor demons gaining tangible mass after Peirte’s death. She’d then taken up a protective role over the smaller entities, encouraging them to continue feeding and growing.
“I’m no threat to you! Take that other thing and go terrorize someone else!” Sorna shrieked, continuing to helplessly dangle.
“Whom?”
Sorna struggled to look up at the demon. “What?”
Being a familiar, the demon couldn’t resist the chance to be purposefully ordered to go after someone. She knew this old woman wasn’t strong enough to control her outright, and afterward, she’d come back and finish her off.
“Whom do you wish me to kill?” the demon asked again, hoisting Sorna up higher.
Willing to do anything to save her own life, Sorna blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Keiran!”
The demon hissed and dropped Sorna to the floor immediately. She recalled the fight with him previously, and she wanted no part of it. “Someone else.”
Sorna hit the ground hard, her neck and back instantly shocked from the impact. The wind was knocked out of her, leaving her unable to flee. She stared up at the demon looming over her.
“Then get Thana for becoming his concubine,” she gasped out. “Spare her the suffering of birthing that damned vampire’s children.”
The demon’s hands clenched at her sides as she knew the human woman would be a much easier target than the vampire. “The deal is accepted.”
Sorna tried to move, but her arms and legs were sluggish to respond. As she tried to get up, the demon reached into the nesting box and picked up the smaller creature, clasping it to her chest. That done, it stepped over the old woman and exited, disappearing from sight.
Sorna got up, her body in pain and trembling. She realized what she’d just done, but felt it was justice served. Dying would be better for Thana than living as Keiran’s wife.
She knew she’d be damned for giving the demon the order, though, it had spared her own life. However, Sorna felt she’d already been damned for raising Thana into the type of woman she’d become.
“God will sort it out,” she whispered to herself before struggling back toward her small house to recover from the event.
* * *
Stepan had taken them to the lowest depths of the dungeon where guards rarely migrated. There was a false wall in the back of a storage closet there that he’d opened and ushered them through.
After the Aviatrovs had reclaimed control of the palace, they’d had assorted passageways installed throughout the building to aid in any future escape. However, time had clouded the memories of where those passages were and few had any idea most of them existed.
Stepan’s father made him commit the tunnels to memory when he’d been just a boy, knowing his son would someday take over his job as head of the Royal Guard.
He’d understood the importance of the tunnels and how they might someday be needed. Stepan never imagined he’d need to use them to evacuate a member of royalty from another country, however.
Once safely hidden within the tunnels of the palace, Stepan had taken them to one of the safe rooms tucked away within the maze of corridors. There were a few supplies within that would help them for the time being. They’d each been outfitted with a sword and knife, though the blades were rusted from decades of storage.
Stepan found an old uniform shirt to put on, replacing the one he’d shredded during his crawl between the cells.
They huddled around a small table, a single candle lit upon its surface.
“All right, if they haven’t found out we’re missing yet, they will soon.” Stepan looked over the faces of his companions. “There are at least a dozen men stationed at the exit of the dungeon, and mandatory inspections of the prisoners are held every two hours.”
“They had fifty men surrounding us before throwing us in the dungeon,” Kanan said. “I’m surprised we weren’t being observed a little more closely.”
“None of them know there is another way out of the dungeon. Besides, she had me tossed in there with you, King Sipesh, to see if I would be attacked,” Stepan replied. “I’m supposing she ordered us left in solitude to see if you would do so. Adira probably expects to come down those stairs in a few hours to find a bloodbath.”
Though inappropriate, Keiran’s stomach growled, and everyone looked at him.
“We haven’t eaten since we were thrown down there yesterday,” he said in h
is own defense.
“Fair enough.” Stepan moved away from the table. “Adira likes to buy cooperation from her prisoners by letting them starve for a few days.”
He returned after rummaging through a crate, setting some jars of preserved beans onto the table. The men quickly opened them and got to eating. They didn’t smell very good and had been stored there for decades. The men were too hungry to let that stop them, though.
Jerris set his emptied jar down on the table and looked at the Alerian guard. “So, you’re the only one who knows about this passageway?”
Stepan nodded. “My father taught me where all of them were, just as he learned from his father. We kept it secret, not wanting potential invaders or assassins to use them for nefarious purposes. There are some passageways that others know about, but this one is a dearly held secret.”
“Well, if it connects to the others that people do know about, I’d imagine we shouldn’t be staying in here terribly long,” the redhead replied.
“No.” Stepan glanced at Victri. “But we do need to come to an agreement about what happens when we get out of here.”
The advisor raised his brows. “It’s obvious we have to leave the country or at least get out of the capital so we’re not recognized. I’ve no intention of being executed by our deranged queen.”
“We have to find Garhan first,” Keiran said. “That was the deal. You promised I would be shown where Garhan was.”
“Stepan already told you where Garhan is,” Victri shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s not my concern.”
“And you think you have the skills to survive out there and avoid capture?” Stepan asked.
“It will be harder for them to capture all of us if we split up,” Victri replied, defiant.
“You’re completely unprepared to be out in the real world, Advisor.” Stepan laughed. “You’ve never lived out there.”
“I bet if he was caught, he’d do anything to save his own hide,” Kanan snorted. “If he knows where we intend to go, he’ll tell them in a heartbeat. He either goes in the opposite direction the moment we’re out of here, or he sticks with us. I won’t compromise on that.”
Despite all of the resentment already brewing inside the advisor toward the Tordanians and Stepan, Victri realistically knew he wasn’t prepared for whatever might happen next. As much as he dreaded wasting time to let them see if Garhan was dead or not, he knew he had to go along with it.
“Fine, I’ll stay with you. Once we’re out of Aleria, however, we’re done,” Victri said, looking away from the others.
“I can live with that.” Keiran turned his attention back toward Stepan. “Where will this passage take us, and how far will Garhan be from that point?”
“There is an underground escape passage that leads to an old maintenance shed. It’s relatively close to the abandoned manor house and rather overgrown.” Stepan scratched out a crude diagram on the table’s surface with a knife. “The gardeners have been scared to do much in the way of landscaping near the house since they learned a vampire was being kept within. No one goes there except the guards.”
“And how heavily guarded is it?” Keiran asked. “With the paranoia they’ve shown around me, I’d imagine it’s substantial.”
“It used to be, but Garhan was just too sick and weak to mount a successful escape attempt. Adira and the rest of us got rather complacent about the whole affair. One man has been kept stationed outside of the doors to the house, but that’s all. Being assigned there is something of a punishment,” Stepan said. “It’s boring and lonely. Whoever is scheduled there tonight will probably not be profoundly difficult to overpower.”
Kanan smiled. “Good, I think we can handle that. Is it dark out? I have no idea what time it is after being in that dungeon.”
Stepan sighed and thought. He was the last of them to arrive in the dungeon, and he felt like several hours had passed. “It should be getting dark out before long. We need to get to the outbuilding as soon as we can. We can get into the house, check on Garhan, and leave.”
“We also need to get our men who were left at the inn,” Keiran said.
“But how will you move such a large group of people through the country without them being seen?” Victri asked, unwilling to put himself at risk for more Tordanians.
“I don’t know, but I can’t leave my men behind,” the vampire said, locking gazes with the advisor. “As we discuss before, you’re free to go on your own once we’re out of this palace.”
He grumbled and quieted down.
Stepan stood up and nodded to the others. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Come on, Thana,” Corina said, holding out a hand to help the girl out of the carriage.
An appointment had been made for Thana to see Father Beezle. It had become a tradition in their country for expectant mothers to be blessed by the church following the Mother’s Plague years earlier.
The young woman had been reluctant to leave the confines of the castle, but she eventually acquiesced to Corina’s request. She exited the carriage and linked arms with Corina, going up the stairs toward the doors. Everything was wet from the persistent spring rain, but they’d gotten a reprieve from the weather on the ride into town.
Inside the building, there were others waiting for assorted appointments with church officials, while some simply sat praying. Father Beezle was back near the altar, finishing up recording a marriage he’d preformed just minutes earlier.
He lifted his gaze up from his record book and smiled when he spotted the two women. “Ah, the queen herself!”
Thana blushed and waved her left hand weakly before her. “I’m still just Thana, Father Beezle.”
“Well, Just Thana, I’m glad to see you here,” he said, stepping around the altar to meet the women. “And Corina, how are you doing today?”
The old woman smiled brightly, resting her hand on Thana’s shoulder. “Quite well. I’m excited for Thana, though I know she’s still terribly nervous about this.”
While Randall couldn’t personally relate to being pregnant, he’d seen how worried first-time mothers often were. “Well, that’s completely normal. Women have borne countless scores of children, however, and usually it works out quite well.”
Thana placed her hand down over her stomach. “I suppose so. I wasn’t expecting it so soon, though.”
“Nature doesn’t usually run on a particular schedule for our convenience,” Father Beezle said with a laugh, turning back to the altar.
“I suppose not,” Thana replied, remaining where she was.
“This won’t take but a moment.” Randall picked up a small glass vial from the altar and uncorked it.
“What do I do?” Thana had never witnessed this particular rite before.
“You just stand there,” Father Beezle said, coming back before her.
The air was immediately filled with the perfume of assorted flowers as the vial contained infused oil. He poured out a bit onto his fingertips before reaching up to dab it onto either side of Thana’s neck.
“Queen Thana Sipesh, may God protect you and let your child grow quickly and in good health,” the aged priest said firmly before smiling and dabbing one more drop of the oil onto the middle of her forehead.
“There, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?” Corina asked.
Thana looked over at her. “No, not really. I rather like the scent.”
Father Beezle grinned and corked the vial. “Well, this one is yours to use while you’re carrying this child. However, if you want more, you’ll have to conceive another.”
The younger woman smiled as Father Beezle pressed the vial into the palm of her left hand and closed her fingers around it. “Thank you.”
“Just use a bit every morning. The scent seems to help with relaxation, and some women have told me using the oil helped with their stomach troubles,” Randall said.
There was a sound outside of the doors to the cathedral. There were always t
wo guards stationed at the doors of the church. Their presence was more symbolic than functional, but even being highly trained wouldn’t have helped them on that day.
A woman came up the steps and went directly before the guard to the left of the doors. Before he had the chance to ask her what she wanted, one of her hands darted out and grabbed him by the tunic he wore, throwing him back behind her. He hit the stairs and crashed down them to the street, bones shattering and leaving him incapacitated. The other sentry charged toward her, his pike aimed at the center of her chest.
She didn’t react at all until he was nearly close enough to run her through. At that point, she grabbed onto the shaft of the pike and tore it from his grip. She then swung the blunt end of the weapon, knocking the sentry off balance before she turned the pike and hurled it, hitting him in the abdomen.
He writhed and screamed, struggling to get the weapon pulled from his body. It didn’t matter, however. His liver had been pierced, and he bled out in minutes.
Inside the cathedral, everyone went silent and looked toward the doors of the building. They all focused on the woman who’d appeared on the landing outside.
She possessed stunning red hair and eyes, her gown white and flowing. The demon paced before the doors but didn’t move to enter the building. There was the sound of hooves scraping the stone she walked upon.
Father Beezle felt a tingle on the back of his neck, and he stepped in front of Thana and Corina. “Dear God, what is this?”
The woman quit pacing and squared up her stance before the doors, letting out an inhuman shriek. That prompted the others in the building to go from stunned silence to panic, and they began to flee. Several of them darted out through the open doors around her while some ran deeper into the cathedral, heading for other exits.
Father Beezle didn’t move, however, and he held his arms out to his sides, trying to keep Thana and Corina behind him. “Hold still…”
“Who is she?” Corina asked.
“Not who—what,” Randall said, keeping his eyes focused on the being.
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