The demon’s head cocked inquisitively to the side. The stone floor beneath her clawed feet morphed into a fog-like state. She looked downward, her confusion giving way to abject terror. She turned and began to frantically claw at the invisible barrier before her, desperate for escape. All thought of killing Thana evaporated as she fought to save herself.
The fog lingered on the floor for just a few seconds before it was suddenly sucked downward into a void below. A resounding bellow emanated from the chasm opening up, its depth black and bottomless. The fragments of stone littering the ground around the demon plummeted, vanishing.
The demon avoided sinking downward for several seconds, gaining some traction in her futile attempts to tear through the barrier. However, as the last trace of fog was pulled out from beneath her, she could do nothing to hold herself up any longer. She locked gazes with Thana before her head disappeared below the rim of the chasm. She fell downward, her pained screams slowly growing distant before they ceased.
Once the demon was out of view, Randall pulled his hands apart from one another, the floor instantly reappearing as it always had been. Quiet was restored, broken only by the small sounds of tiny stone shards still falling from the damaged ceiling above.
Thana let out the breath she’d been holding and gave a small yelp of relief when the floor reappeared, the demon gone. She looked over at Corina with a smile, which the old woman returned.
Father Beezle smiled as well, looking toward the women. He was extremely tired from the magic, and he started to feel light-headed.
The warmth around his knees wasn’t abating. He looked down and realized it wasn’t the feeling of energy being channeled through him at all. It was his own blood, running from the wound in his side he’d sustained when the ceiling had broken inward.
He looked up and saw Thana and Corina coming toward him, their expressions turning from happiness to worry as they saw the growing pool of blood he knelt in. His focus on them was short lived as his vision began to dim from the edges inward and a loud ringing set in his ears.
Father Beezle was unconscious before he fell forward and hit the floor.
* * *
The climb down from the tree over the palace wall hadn’t proven any more difficult than most of their maneuvers to escape the manor house. The growing fire and darkness of the surrounding area had let them drop down unseen, the opposite side of the wall vacant.
The grounds around the palace were lightly wooded, so they were able to find a hiding place to discuss their next move. Garhan and Stepan did most of the talking, both being far more familiar with the area than the Tordanians were.
“We can’t travel on the main roads, we’ll be found almost immediately if we do,” Stepan said, standing with his arms across his chest.
“If she thinks we’ve died in the fire, they won’t be looking for us at all,” Garhan countered. “We do need horses, however.”
“Horses or not, we still can’t travel freely.” The Alerian guard shook his head. “Adira ordered all travelers to carry documentation a few years ago and had checkpoints set up along all the roads. Without paper, I can’t draft us up one.”
Garhan quirked a brow. “Probably one of Victri’s suggestions. We may just have to travel through the countryside away from the main roads, then. Though, I’m still uncertain how we’re going to get across the border. I assume it’s as heavily guarded as ever.”
Steven clenched his jaw. “Worse, I’m afraid.”
Keiran finally spoke up. “I have a group of men back at the inn in town. I can’t run out of this country and leave them all behind. Adira told me they would be escorted out of the country unharmed if they agreed to go quietly, but I doubt they will. I need to get word to them I’m all right and for them to follow the Alerians’ orders if they are willing to let them leave.”
Stepan looked over at the Tordanian king and frowned. “None of us can do that. The guards at the inn would only take the word of a royal courier, and we don’t have one with us.”
Garhan closed his eyes and hung his head. He recalled Keiran’s mention of a small woman earlier. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of Mari still being a courier after all of these years?”
“Mari?” Stepan asked, turning quickly toward him. “She is the queen’s personal courier these days, but I don’t think I could sway her into helping us. In fact, she hates me.”
Garhan’s posture instantly relaxed, and he lifted his head again, a lopsided smile appearing. “I think I can convince her.”
Chapter 7
Athan made the trip back to his castle in Talaus alone. He’d not flown there under the guise of a raven or through the air as an invisible mist. Instead, he’d ridden along on his horse, trying to get his emotions and thoughts back under control following the revelation the Nahli man had given him.
When he made his way through the gates of his fortress-like castle, they parted before him, and he rode into the courtyard. He headed directly toward the entry doors to the interior of the building, the horse fading out and vanishing beneath him. He landed on his feet and kept his step perfectly in tune with his forward momentum.
The massive iron-clad doors parted before him, and he stepped inside the entry hall and stopped. Athan’s eyes closed lightly, and he both felt and listened for any activity taking place within the building. Below the floor he stood on, he could feel the servants and prisoners both locked within their designated areas for the night. Above, there was no activity coming from the others he willingly shared his home with.
The only thing he picked up of interest was Sabetha as it was far past her normal bedtime. She was in the throne room, waiting with a good deal of nervous tension around her, so that is where he headed.
He entered, the layout of the chamber much different from Keiran’s castle back in Tordania. The room had a high, domed ceiling over it, with a chimney out of the center most portion. The middle of the floor below was comprised of a good-sized fire pit; however, only a modestly-sized blaze was going within it. Most of the logs had already burned out, so the flames left weren’t particularly bright.
Perched on the edge of the pit sat Sabetha. She was unclothed as was typical for her at night. She had her wings drawn around her body, the feathers on her back fluffed up to help her retain body heat. Her eyes were half opened as she struggled to remain awake, determined to speak with Athan upon his arrival home.
He moved around the pit and went to go sit beside her, letting his legs hang over the ledge. “Sabetha, it’s well past sunset. Why aren’t you asleep?”
She slowly blinked, not giving up much emotion in her exhausted state. Her head pivoted toward him in a fluid turn, deep shadows cast over her features from the fire. “I had to give you news of what I have seen. I saw you were close today, so I waited.”
Athan had an urge to talk to anyone about what he’d learned on his trip, but while Sabetha’s face gave up no indication of what she needed to tell him, the anxiety from her was enough to get his attention. His own conversational desires would have to wait.
He nodded. “What is it?”
Her eyes turned back toward the fire, and she shook out the feathers of her wings slowly. “I watched Keiran, and he traveled out of Tordania and into Aleria.”
Athan’s left eye twitched, and his lips tensed down together as he digested that. “I suppose Kanan or Corina told him about his mother and he felt compelled to go. Brave of them to disobey my orders but inevitable.”
The harpy drew in a sigh, cocking her head to the side beyond the capabilities of a human neck. “No, he didn’t go on his own. Though I don’t know what was said, I do know a group of Alerians came to his castle in Tordania, and he left with them a few days later. It looked to be an invitation of some sort.”
Athan pushed himself up, having the urge to pace as he started to try and piece it together. If the Tordanian king was simply invited instead of going off on his own, he supposed that was enough to buy Corina and Kanan a r
eprieve from his wrath.
The net result would be the same whether it came from his old companions or his Alerian visitors. He knew the younger vampire would have asked about his mother the moment he’d gotten the chance. Still, he was growing angry in short order, his long strides carrying him around the fire pit and back behind Sabetha.
“So, he went to Aleria,” he said to himself, crossing his arms over his chest, “but why would Adira invite him? With that wretched woman’s phobia of vampires, why would she ever ask one willingly to enter her country?”
Though it was a rhetorical question, Sabetha answered anyway. “I only see the actions, I don’t know the reasons. Keiran did meet with Queen Adira in person, however. This I saw.”
Athan huffed and paced back around the fire in the opposite direction. “But why would she do that? For what reason? Did you see what happened afterward?”
“I lost track for a time, but I caught sight of Keiran, the old guard, and the young guard, all three in a dungeon,” Sabetha replied, flicking her eyes wide open again. She was desperately trying to stay awake, but it was a battle she wouldn’t win much longer.
“I see.” Athan stopped on the other side of the fire and faced the harpy. “She took him to keep him under lock and key. That shouldn’t surprise me after she stashed Garhan away as she did and left him to die.”
Sabetha had seen Garhan’s decline over the years in images she’d occasionally picked up. The last time she’d reached out to try, he’d been a desiccated corpse and, by her judgment, dead.
Her anxiety spiked higher, her body starting to shake. “Keiran escaped the dungeon, however. He and some others found the house Garhan had been locked in, and they went inside.”
Athan’s eyes narrowed, and his head tipped forward. He’d accepted Garhan’s death long ago. Sabetha had described Garhan’s body in great detail, and the vampire had agreed with her conclusion about his passing.
While Athan did hold honest sentiments for his children he got to know, Garhan had proven a dead end after Ilana’s removal from the line of succession. The elder vampire had never bothered to travel there to meet Garhan, and he hadn’t become invested in him.
Sabetha’s words hit hard, though. If Keiran had gone to that house, it was either through dumb luck, or he’d been made aware of Garhan’s existence and had looked for him intentionally.
It took him several seconds to force out his next words, beginning to fear what the answer would be. Sabetha’s emotional state wasn’t helping him, and an undercurrent of strong and unpleasant feelings started to surge beneath his anger. “What did Keiran see?”
“Keiran found Garhan just as I had last seen him. Shriveled and dead on the floor.” She looked over and met Athan’s stare. Her fear of his reaction grew, but she had to admit what she’d witnessed. “But Garhan moved.”
Athan didn’t say anything at all for minutes. He didn’t move from where he stood. A cold shock ran down his spine, his hackles pricking up and his fangs sliding down into place. It was rare for Athan to admit he’d made a serious error, but this was one.
He should never have left Garhan in Aleria after Ilana’s ruse of insanity took him out of running for the throne. At the very least, the young vampire should have been brought to Talaus to be raised following Ilana’s death. However, he’d let himself become distracted by having Kayla Sipesh in Talaus by then, and bringing a child into the castle had seemed like too much of an inconvenience.
It was an insult compounded right into a newly reopened injury, and it made his stomach twist.
He should have gone to Aleria himself to verify Garhan’s death at some point, but he’d never bothered. The elder vampire had already moved on in his plans by getting to Ilana’s second child, and Garhan had been swept under the rug.
Keiran learning about Garhan’s existence hadn’t been in Athan’s plans. It had the potential to forever make the Tordanian vampire resistant to Athan’s attempts to sway him. Keiran was deeply attached to his mother, despite never knowing her. To learn that Athan had toyed with her offspring not just once, but twice, could spur Keiran into a level of hatred Athan wouldn’t be able to overcome.
All of his mistakes over the previous two decades were coming together into one giant nightmare. He shook his head and refocused on the harpy, needing to hear her out.
When Athan dared to ask his next question, his voice cracked on the words. “So, is Garhan alive?”
Sabetha didn’t pull her gaze away from Athan and gave an awkward bob of her head in the affirmative. “He was restored with blood. Queen Adira was there. She left the house afterward, and it was set aflame by her guards. However, Keiran, Garhan, and the others escaped. Still all in Aleria, but all alive.”
Athan tipped his head back and closed his eyes. The force of this news hitting him only compounded his emotional turmoil. He’d not only let Kayla Sipesh slip from his grasp and become a threat in her own right, but now Garhan had entered the picture and had possibly taken Keiran away from his future control.
After several more seconds, something in Athan clicked back into place, and he was able to restore his outward calm and push away his feelings. He looked at Sabetha again and offered her one of his artificial smiles.
“I will have to make plans using this news, Sabetha,” he said, sweeping an arm back toward the door. “Go on and sleep now. I don’t want you to get ill from staying up so late. I’ll need your help considerably in the weeks to come.”
She stood up slowly, her legs unsteady in her tired state. Sabetha was relieved to see Athan gain more control over his outward façade, and it was time to take her leave. “Tomorrow, I will look for anything you need.”
Athan moved to meet her half way through the room, placing a light kiss on her cheek before she exited. Once she stepped out and he was alone, he let his emotions seethe, the fire in the pit turning green and growing taller as it fed off the energy pouring from him.
* * *
Mari sat before the fire in her small cottage, nursing a cup of tea. Though she was extraordinarily physically fit, being thrown by Victri a few days prior had done some damage. By the next morning, her shoulder had started to pain her terribly. Mercifully, however, the queen hadn’t summoned her for any trips since the incident, giving her time to recuperate.
She’d given thought to riding the next day whether it was for work or not. Sitting for too long always started to make her feel on edge as though she was forgetting to do things.
Sighing, she set down her cup and rose from her chair, opting to turn in. On the way to her bedroom, she paused before one of the windows of her house that had a view of the palace grounds. Soon, her face was pressed to the glass as she saw the amber glow of flames and a large plume of smoke wafting up into the night sky.
There was a knock at her door, and she drew back from the window with a gasp. She instantly suspected she was being summoned for official business somehow related to the fire raging in the distance. Eager to find out what was burning, Mari jogged over to her door and threw the latch.
She craned her neck up to see her visitor, immediately recognizing Stepan. She suppressed her usual anger that rose up when faced with her former friend. “What’s going on? I just saw the fire.”
The Alerian guard looked back over his shoulder at the plume of smoke before facing her again. “It’s the old manor house. Adira ordered it burned down.”
The small woman’s eyes went wide, and she stepped out onto the porch past Stepan, looking at the glow. Something twisted up in her chest at once, and tears came to her eyes. “…why?”
“Mari, Adira… she’s gone mad,” Stepan said quietly, moving closer to her.
The small woman spun back around to face Stepan, a scowl overtaking her features. She stepped right up to the guard and jabbed a finger into the center of his chest. “I’ve heard the rumors over the years, Stepan, and I’ve asked you before only to have you play dumb. That house has been under constant guard since Garhan disappeared.
Is he in there? You answer me, and no more of your damned games!”
Stepan met her gaze and shook his head before his eyes pulled up to look past her. She turned around, hearing the boards of the porch protest as someone stepped up onto them from the edge.
Garhan stopped several paces away, dropping down to one knee to be on Mari’s level. He gave up a pained smile, his eyes burning not only from the smoke exposure earlier, but from tears of both fear and happiness at seeing Mari for the first time in years.
“I escaped,” he whispered, afraid she wouldn’t recognize him nor want to associate with him after being gone for so long.
The adrenaline and fear that had overtaken the courier from the news had her shaking, but upon seeing Garhan, it broke away and gave into something else. Garhan’s anxiety over her not recognizing him had been unjustified. Though he was still painfully thin and missing his former long and well-groomed hair, the moment Mari saw him, she knew who he was.
She took one slow step toward him, examining her former lover. The excitement of knowing he was still alive pushed her along faster, until she ended up running the remaining distance and nearly tackled him back off the porch.
Stepan turned away, realizing it was a long-over-due reunion. He’d been one of the few privy to their secret affair decades before, when he was just beginning his training as a palace guard.
Mari, at the time, was doing short-run delivery service for the palace, but spent enough time waiting around on-call for her assignments that she’d struck up a relationship with Garhan. There had always been a tension over the group, however, as Stepan had wanted Mari for his own.
Guilt washed in on him as he thought back. When Adira had been crowned and Garhan imprisoned, he’d known where the other man had been sent from the beginning. Despite Mari’s pleas for information, he’d refused to tell her, citing his loyalty to his duty. It had been cruel on his part not to tell her, and it had cost him his friendship with the woman.
Mari held on for all she was worth, burying her face against the side of Garhan’s neck. She drew in jagged breaths, losing her composure.
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