by Petra Landon
Temi did not disagree with the general principle, but she wondered about their supplies. The energy bars, they’d been consuming steadily, had dwindled to a handful.
“I’m going to check the perimeter” he stated, striding away through the archway.
Temi took that as a sign that she had the cavern to herself. Stripping off her grimy clothes, she plunged into the water. It was enough to wake her. The water was clean but crisp, verging on cold. She dunked herself quickly, before rummaging through the neat pile of clothes she’d handed him the night they’d left the resort. It had only been a few days and yet, seemed a lifetime ago.
Around midday, he strode in with some wood and supplies, to build a small fire to one side of the cavern. Temi strolled forward to check it out. He fanned the flames carefully, to allow the smoke to escape through the archway into the larger cave beyond. Once the fire was strong enough, he placed a leafy bundle over it. Temi observed as he rotated it expertly on the firepit. After about twenty minutes, he took the bundle off the flame, to unwrap it. Inside was a small rodent-like creature, skinned and neatly trimmed, with a green paste smeared over it.
“You’ve lived off the forest before” she commented. He’d guided her surefootedly through its vastness to this cave. That spoke volumes about his knowledge of the area. But as she watched him cook their next meal, this struck Temi more forcefully.
“I’ve been coming to The Games for years” he responded.
This came as no surprise to Temi. It was precisely why she had inveigled her way to Belize, in the hope of arranging a meeting with the one Magick who might be able to untangle her.
“You’ve also trekked through this rainforest many times” Temi averred.
“The creatures in the forest are less dangerous than the ones that crowd the resort” he professed, without any hint of rancor.
Temi agreed with him. Her brethren called themselves the Chosen, but for her, the gift of magic had only brought heartache and despair. And eventually, a desperate desire for emancipation at all costs, something she would wish on no creature. Her musings served to remind Temi of the barbarous and unforgiving Chosen who sought her.
“If the Blutsaugers discover the site where you fought the others, they’ll guess your identity” she said. There was no way to hide that a powerful Archmage had been responsible for the havoc. Monseigneur was notorious for holding on to grudges and Temi felt a pang about it. When he’d merely been ElMorad to her, this had barely pricked at her conscience. But now, she found herself regretting it.
He glanced at her, the slate-gray eyes crinkling at the corners. Temi realized that he was amused by her apprehensions.
“Monseigneur will guess who it is sooner than later, Red. Even without any evidence of my magic” he contended. He’d also left a letter for the owners but he was confident they wouldn’t leak the contents to anyone, least of all the Clan. “There are few Chosen in the world who could hide you from his Vampires. And even fewer at The Games. Once he calms down, he’ll figure it out.”
Temi met his eyes. “They know that you’re a regular visitor to The Games” she acknowledged.
His brow furrowed in sudden comprehension. “That’s why you showed up to The Games” he murmured. “To accost me.”
“I didn’t accost you” she protested, without heat. “I wanted to strike a bargain with you.”
“You’re in luck, Red. This was meant to be my swan song at The Games. If you’d decided to try your luck next year, it would prove a futile trip.” Until she had confronted him in his room, he’d meant to leave the next morning. He was bored and the events no longer held any appeal for him. But her bold and intrepid overture had made him stay an extra day to investigate his mysterious midnight visitor.
“Monseigneur …” she paused, trying to put it into words.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about him. If Monseigneur wants to tangle with me, he’s welcome to try.”
Wrenching off a piece from the cooked meat, he offered it to her, clearly unworried about the possibility.
Temi stared at it “What is it?” she asked uncertainly.
His brows drew together. “You don’t want to know.”
As Temi hesitated, he added gently. “This is the part where we test your newfound resolution, Red.”
“About obeying orders without question” he reiterated.
Temi reached for the exotic meat in his hands. He turned away to break off a piece from the leafy wrapping on the ground, and bit into it with gusto. As he chomped it down, she took a tentative bite of hers. To her surprise and pleasure, the meat was succulent, the green paste tempering it to give it a nutty and slightly salty taste that hid its gaminess.
He polished off his portion, to break off another piece for her.
This time, Temi did not hesitate. “It’s not bad” she remarked.
“Keep following orders, Red. And you’ll see Mexico in no time.”
His comment had Temi feeling good about their prospects.
“Where will you go from Mexico?” he asked.
Temi had not thought that far ahead. Thus, she had no answer for him.
“Your mother?” he asked.
“I don’t know where she is” Temi admitted.
Her eyes tangled with him. “Vanni has indicated that she visits Monseigneur in Venice sometimes.”
He got the hint. Her mother never inquired after her.
“You’re sure Monseigneur is unaware of what you are?” he confirmed. Her magic had saved the day in the forest. The Vampires had taken him by surprise, injuring him badly before he could draw on his powers. If she had not bolstered his ability to heal himself, he might have been done for. Not because he could not recover from his wounds, but because he was too depleted to fight back effectively if other Blutsaugers had chanced upon them while he recouped.
She reflected on his question. “I can’t be absolutely sure, of course. His Vampires always surrounded us.”
“But I believe that the only man who knew is gone” Temi said softly, a mixture of resignation and grief in her voice.
A furrow marked his brow. It was time to be absolutely blunt. “Very few Magicks can create anything even remotely close to ElDarZin’s artifact” he pointed out. “However, finding a First One to top it up is far easier than actually building the artifact. Especially, for Monseigneur with his connections among the First Ones. Yet, his Vampires pursue you doggedly. Are you sure your abilities are a secret, as you believe?”
Temi was silent for a few moments. “I’m meant to be his bride.”
“Monseigneur?” he repeated, gobsmacked by the information.
For the first time since she’d known him, he was speechless. It took him a few minutes to muster his scattered senses.
“How old are you, Red?”
Temi balked at the question and a dark eyebrow shot up in response. “State secret, is it?”
She grit her teeth. He seemed to have this effect on her, most of the time. The man knew how to push her buttons. “I’m twenty one this year.”
Blood-sucking, cradle-snatching, power-hungry, savage bastard, he swore silently. But as the first shock receded, questions arose in him. “Why you?”
“I don’t know” Temi confessed. Perhaps, Monseigneur believed that given who the creator of the artifact had been, her magic would prove more efficient. But she didn’t believe that to be the Master’s motive. “Vanni thinks that my mother is an ally Monseigneur values. But she doesn’t care about me at all.” Temi shrugged. This was a question she had long discarded. Given her graver and more urgent concerns, it had been relegated to the dustbin.
Her companion lapsed into silence. ElMorad knew that Monseigneur would not pursue her so assiduously unless it benefited him in some manner. For the first time, the enormity of her situation struck him. Monseigneur would hunt her to ends of the earth. She would never be able to escape the powerful Master of the Lombardis. Alone, without a Chosen faction to fight for her, she stood littl
e chance. Since the day at the arena when he’d watched her fight the brute, there had been one question he desired the answer to, from her. Suddenly for him, everything fell into place. With all other doors closed to her, she’d chosen the only option she had some semblance of control over.
Three weeks later
Temi glanced at the figure on the next bed. He lay unmoving, his forearm over his eyes. But she knew how deceptive his stillness could be. At the first hint of trouble, he would erupt like a volcano, capable of wreaking immense havoc at a moment’s notice. She had watched and observed him from close quarters for the past few weeks. He’d been her constant companion, escorting her without incident through the Belizean rainforest into a town where they’d laid low for a bit. Once he deemed it safe, they’d traveled through the Guatemalan jungles into Mexico. Where Belize was safe, Guatemala had been seething with unrest, a constant undercurrent that had forced Temi to always be on her guard. But her companion had been more than up to the task. On the routes skirting the Mayan ruins at Flores, they had pretended to be tourists, while away from the popular destinations, they’d skirted villages and jungles as locals. Temi’s Mediterranean skin and newly darkened hair had allowed her to blend in, as long as she did not open her mouth. Like a true chameleon, her companion had undergone a subtle change. His fluent Spanish, judging from the reactions of the locals, had been peppered with Central American idioms and expressions. The trek through Guatemala had been challenging, due to the constant threats and inherent instability of the country. And of course, he’d skirted border controls everywhere, to throw the Blutsaugers off their tracks. Temi had been glad of this, for she had no papers to pass through the controls. Finally, their journey was nearing its end. Tonight, they slept on the outskirts of Mexico City. In the morning, they would part ways.
“Stop thinking and go to sleep, Red” her companion adjured, confirming Temi’s suspicions. “Early day tomorrow.”
Yet, for once, Temi found it hard to obey his diktat. Her mind crowded with questions, now that she was to be on her own without her powerful protector. She was confident that zigzagging across Central America had obscured her tracks. Monseigneur would not find her easily. But the larger question of what next preoccupied her.
Her equation with her Archmage companion had turned a corner, whether it was the shared knowledge of their respective magic, or a sense of working together against the Vampires, or even the frank exchange of views about her background and history with the Nest. He’d been an exemplary companion on their journey and Temi, in turn, had shed her doubts and followed him blindly, without questions.
“Thank you” she spoke into the darkness, immensely grateful to him for getting her this far. He’d given her a ray of hope, where she had none before.
After a moment of silence, he sat up to turn on the lamp by his bed. As light fell on her, Temi turned on her side to face him. The pale eyes were shadowed.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asked.
Temi sat up slowly. “I’ve been thinking about my options” she confessed.
He studied her. “If your father was a First One, I might be able to trace his family” he offered.
“I’m not sure he had any” Temi demurred. “But there is a friend I can go to.”
“How?” he asked, without missing a beat. “You don’t have a passport, Red.”
Temi straightened. “What makes you say that?”
“Your stuff is in my rucksack, remember? I know exactly what you brought with you. You didn’t bring your passport, which makes me believe that you didn’t have access to it.”
Temi sighed. “I’m not sure I have one.”
His brows furrowed together. “First time international?”
“First time away from Venice” she said candidly.
There had been rumors of private planes circumventing the Belizean authorities by using the resort’s runway. He mused that it would be just like the paranoid Vampires to avoid the authorities if they thought they could get away with it.
“Alright, Red. Time to come clean” he declared, getting to his feet.
Temi raised her head to meet his gaze head on. “I have come clean.” She tried to not sound defensive.
“You’ve answered all my questions, except the most important one” he asserted.
Temi swept off the bed to face him, unwilling to have him loom over her. It put her at a disadvantage.
“What question?” she asked, though she had her suspicions.
His eyes pinned her in place and from the expression in their depths, Temi knew that her suspicions were correct.
“Who did you want me to kill the night you came to me with your proposition?” he asked, the rich tones silky smooth.
Temi remained silent, not keen to stir this particular hornet’s nest. She knew enough about the man now, to know that her response to the question would enrage ElMorad.
As the silence stretched on, he remarked. “This is the end of the road, Red. You may think you’ve lost the Vampires, but Monseigneur will not give up on his bride. He will broaden the dragnet and it won’t be long before word gets back to him about a gringa running around Mexico.”
Temi paled at the blunt warning. All this while, she had refused to entertain such thoughts. But here was ElMorad giving a voice to her fears.
The pale eyes took in her expression. “Answer my question and I will help you.” He paused. “Mind you, I know the answer. If you’re not honest with me, I’ll be gone before you wake in the morning.”
Temi, astonished by his claim, wondered if this was why ElMorad had offered to help her, despite refusing her the night before in his room.
“Me” she admitted quietly, as the silence grew uncomfortable.
His jaw flexed, an instinctive but subtle response he could not hide from her.
“I suspected so, but couldn’t believe it” he murmured disbelievingly. “You tried to use ElMorad to assassinate you.”
The restrained rage in the smooth tones had her heart beating faster.
“Your foolhardiness knows no bounds, Red.” He took a step forward, subtly menacing now. “ElMorad was never a murderer. He only took out the ones that deserved it.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done” she countered, standing her ground. “Perhaps, I deserve it.”
“I don’t care” he said witheringly.
Temi sat back on the bed. “I will not be tied to Monseigneur for eternity” she said defiantly with fierce determination.
“You want to die?” he retorted. “Take care of your dirty business yourself.”
She sighed, wishing for the umpteenth time that she had not been blessed with magic. “You are one of the few Chosen who can” she conceded, knowing that he would understand the subtext of the acknowledgement.
Her words stopped him in his tracks. The slate-gray eyes narrowed on her, his mind whirring with questions. Her magic, deployed in the forest, was certainly unusual, but nothing had hinted that her powers would not allow her to breathe her last easily.
“You’re a Mage” he murmured. “What are your antecedents?” Power was never an anomaly among the Chosen. The magic in their blood was inherited from ancestors, never an accident or the result of a mutation. Mages could not be conjured out of thin air. They existed because of the unique blending of old magic.
“I’m ElDarZin’s daughter” Temi explained pithily.
His eyebrow shot up. “Are you now?” he muttered. That would certainly explain it. Her powers were an extension of her famous father’s. The wheels began to turn faster in his brain to make the connections.
“Why did you help me?” Temi interrupted his musings.
The pale eyes flashed to her. “When someone has the guts to walk into ElMorad’s den and bargain with him to take her out, she must be desperate and reckless. But also brave beyond measure. Such courage deserves my respect.”
Temi stared at him, as hysterical laughter welled up in her. If she had only known the key to g
et ElMorad’s attention, she’d have gone about it differently. But his next question had her untimely mirth dying down.
“Monseigneur has Canonical claim on you, Red?” He said it like a statement. This would explain both her desperation and the Vampires’ relentlessness. If the Master could claim her based on the Primogeniture Canons, no ally, however powerful or influential, could shelter her. Going against such laws would have a Chosen hauled before the Elders, to face their collective wrath. The Canons were sacred. Without it, the very fabric of Chosen society and its cohesion would break down, leading to counter claims and civil war.
“There is little to be gained from tracing my father’s family” she admitted grimly, indirectly confirming his suspicions. “No Chosen can help me escape Monseigneur.”
For a moment, they stared at each other in the light of the single night lamp.
“I don’t kill the innocent” he reiterated bluntly. “If that is what you want, make your own way.”
Temi shook her head. “I don’t see a way out. For Chosen, there are fates worse than death” she said quietly.
He didn’t contradict her. He knew exactly what she meant. “If you seek to escape Monseigneur, I’ll help you.”
Temi’s eyes widened. “He has witnesses to ElDarZin pledging me to the Nest’s guardianship” she stammered, tamping down the wild surge of hope in her. Some problems even ElMorad could not solve. “My father’s gone. The only one who can contest the claim is my mother. She will not.”
He contemplated her, without a word.
Temi stood up again, to face him. “I’m very grateful for everything. No one has ever offered me an escape before.”
From her mien, it was clear that though grateful, she could not bring herself to trust his offer.
“Nothing is impossible” he said softly. “I have punished the guilty before. I know how to go about it.”
Temi’s eyes wandered his face, holding herself back resolutely.
“Have some faith, Red” he averred. “Monseigneur is but a poor excuse for a Magick. Take away the trappings of his power, and he is no match for you or me.”