Baron

by Plum Pascal

  “Did… Did he hurt you?” he whispers against my cheek. I realize then that owing to my lack of clothing and my tears, it probably looks like Variant raped me.

  “No,” I respond.

  “Then why,” he starts.

  “He ripped my clothes off and… forced… forced,” I start but then lose my voice.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay now,” he croons into my ear. “No matter what he did to you, you’re alive, Eilish.”

  “He didn’t do anything to me,” I manage. “But he… he…”

  “Shh, Eilish, don’t think about it any longer,” Dragan says as I hold him tighter and he strokes my hair. “It’s over now and you’re still alive. That’s all that matters.”

  The Succubus is silent within me, for once.

  FOUR

  Silvanus

  The Veil

  The Necromancer is powerful in his own right. And though his power pales in comparison to my own, his is a power I respect, all the same. And one I need.

  “You have come a long distance, Silvanus,” Pyre says as he faces me in the center of the forest of the Veil. It has been many centuries since I visited the Veil and as the spirits of this place pass through me, I feel their welcoming and their warmth.

  “I have,” I agree. “Let us walk.” I hold my arm out in front of me and the two of us voyage deeper into the desolation of the woods.

  “You have much on your mind,” Pyre says. Though he cannot see me with his eyes, he can see me with his mind. He is not a god, no, but he is also no mortal. He exists in the space between man and legend.

  “I require your assistance in a very important matter,” I inform him.

  “I’m listening.”

  The forest spirits take notice of us and begin to draw near, causing the trees and shrubs to glow with ethereal light. I welcome them.

  “The female with whom you came into contact in Earlann,” I begin.

  “Eilish,” Pyre interrupts.

  “Yes,” I answer with a brief nod. “She is… important. I have made it my business to ensure her safety, but I’m afraid the closer she ventures to Morrigan’s territory, the less my ability to protect her.”

  “I understand.”

  I turn to face the Necromancer and find his rapt attention already mine. “I ask your favor in this matter, Pyre.”

  “You wish for me to protect the Angel-Succubus?”

  “I do.”

  He nods. “You know you need only ask me and I will happily do your bidding.”

  “I appreciate your help.”

  “Of course you are aware that the Kings’ mission is to release the Midnight Queen from her imprisonment within Variant’s castle?”

  “Of course,” I respond. He is cognizant of the fact that there exists little of which I am not aware.

  “And?”

  I glance at him with a smile. “You forget yourself, Pyre.”

  “Apologies, Silvanus,” he says with a quick nod. “But, I believe I can be of more assistance to you, perhaps, than the little you ask of me?”

  “You wish to know whether I believe Morrigan should be released from capture?”

  “I do.”

  I nod as I allow the subject to penetrate my already overwhelmed mind. “Whether Morrigan is released from her prison, or not, is hardly the question, Pyre. Morrigan is a threat to me no matter her location.”

  “The Cosmos seem to believe Morrigan does not belong in Variant’s castle,” Pyre informs me. “The whispers I hear from the ethers reinforce this notion.”

  “Morrigan does not belong there.”

  “Then do you support the Kings’ cause?”

  “I support any actions taken that will bring us closer to our goal of reinstating the balance between the realms.” I take a deep breath and glance out at the beauty surrounding me. “Morrigan is a threat not only to the realms but she is a threat to you as much as she is a threat to me.”

  “I understand.”

  “Would that she were not as powerful as she is,” I say on a deep sigh as I shake my head.

  “Then you do wish for her to be released from Variant’s influence?” Pyre asks, eyeing me with interest.

  “If the Cosmos support that action, then I am hardly one to argue.”

  “Very well,” Pyre answers with a brief nod. “I shall make it my mission to release Morrigan from Variant’s hold and to ensure the safety of the Angel-Succubus.”

  “You have my gratitude, Pyre,” I finish as I fade into the ether that surrounds us, relieved to know the female will be safe within Pyre’s hands.

  ###

  Dragan

  The Castle in the Sky

  Two days or more pass. I’m unsure of the exact number because I’m unable to see the sun from my dreary prison cell. Days blend into nights and nights blend back into days. I’m quite amazed we’re still alive. Truth be told, I don’t understand why Variant has kept us alive as long as he has. No doubt it’s a way to soften our resolve. He keeps us alive for a reason. But whatever his purpose, I won’t bow to him. I will never bow to him again. Variant could threaten to carve my heart from my chest—let him! But I will keep my pride. The shame of my role in his ascension burns as brightly as it did the day we lost the Great War.

  Almost as brightly as the memory of Eilish and Revenant when I awoke to find them ensconced in the same prison cell. I can’t force the images out of my mind and they continue to haunt me, making me wish I could take a blade to my brain. The images of them together pale in comparison to the memory of the scent in the air. I can still taste Eilish’s desire on my tongue, and smell their sex in the air.

  You must stop! I yell at myself. These memories are going to drive you mad!

  I want to rip off his head, I respond as I eye the fucker in his cell. He had her. My woman.

  And, yet, she’s not my woman. Only because I refuse to allow her to be my woman.

  I shake my head as I force thoughts of Eilish and Revenant out of my mind. I have to focus on more important things—such as Variant. And on the subject of that fucker, I do find it thought-provoking that Variant has yet to pay Cambion or me a visit. It’s for this same reason that I assume he still doesn’t know Baron is reborn as Revenant.

  While it appears Variant has little interest in the three of us, he calls for Eilish every day and returns her the same day. According to her, he merely wishes to make conversation. I’m more than certain he’s arrested by her as it’s impossible to be a heterosexual male and not be swayed by her presence.

  After her initial meeting with Variant, when he left her naked and humiliated, I gave my cloak to her. When Variant called for her the next time, she returned fully dressed. And she was bedecked in the finest of gowns—a cornflower blue, satin dress, the cut of which accentuated her curvy figure flawlessly. I could only wonder if Variant had the gown custom made for her.

  In addition, upon Variant’s decree, Eilish no longer shares a cell with me. Instead, she’s imprisoned on her own and she’s housed at the entry to the dungeon. I’m more than certain Variant dislikes the idea of any of us fucking her and that’s the reason for him separating her from us. The bastard.

  Though the spells in the palace dungeon suppress most of my magic, I’m able to summon the shadows to surround me in their frigid embrace. And I do this on most nights. But, on this night, I’m not alone. A pale, faceless figure appears in the corner of my eye. The figure fades when I turn around to look, remaining only in my peripheral vision.

  “We speak for the fire in the night. Upon his flame we thrive.”

  The voice doesn’t sound as though it belongs to one entity, but many—all speaking in unison, sounding almost like an echo. The voices whisper so low, they could be mistaken for the wind. Only there is no wind in this stone hell.

  “Pyre,” I say in a low tone.

  “We come as his guides,” the voices respond. I can still see the white face from the corner of my eye but there’s no mouth that would allow it
to speak.

  “You’re one of Pyre’s spirits?” I ask.

  “We are many. Astral is our name.”

  “You bring a message, I assume?”

  “She is near. We hear her like rain upon a stone. Beneath her charge we cannot sing, but oath demands we devote in her name.”

  “She?” I repeat, before realization dawns on me. “The Midnight Queen, Morrigan?”

  “Yes,” they whisper, the words coming out as a hiss.

  “The Midnight Queen is here?” I continue, unable to quell my surprise. “Within the palace?”

  The figure moves, writhing in the shadows as it emits a soft glow. “She is held in the hand of the false king.”

  “Where?”

  “Free yourselves then use the rune on the vampire’s arm and Pyre will assist. You must act quickly.”

  “Free ourselves? Act soon?” I laugh mockingly. “We’re imprisoned, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “You forget yourself, gargoyle.”

  “How?”

  “Shadows cannot be imprisoned,” the voices respond.

  Light parts its way through the darkness. The entities leave just as quickly as they arrived, and the air is still again. I shake off the strange sensation of death that lingers in the air as the shadows dwindle. The last words of the entities continue to replay in my mind.

  Shadows cannot be imprisoned.

  The words are a riddle, yes, but they’re also the answer to my predicament. To our predicament. I just don’t know how or why yet.

  Cambion and the others say nothing. They barely spare me a glance, not having heard the eerie conversation.

  “Pyre sent us a message,” I announce, to no one in particular.

  “Pyre?” Cambion repeats, surprise in his tone.

  “His spirits just visited me,” I explain. “They said Variant holds the Midnight Queen captive here, within the palace.”

  “The Midnight Queen hostage? How in the bloody hell did Variant manage that?” Cambion asks as he shakes his head in obvious surprise and doubt. I have no response for him.

  “Such would explain the powerful magic within this place,” Revenant says.

  “Did Pyre’s spirits say where she’s being held?” Cambion continues. “Or why?”

  “No,” I answer.

  “Can we get to her?” Eilish stands up and approaches the cell bars, wrapping her hands around the cold iron. I notice the bars don’t zap her, such that they do to the rest of us.

  “I don’t know,” I answer and find it nearly impossible to pull my eyes away from her. She’s so fucking beautiful and the backdrop of the dark cell behind her appears wholly out of place. Her beauty is the type that demands she be surrounded by opulence, not ice-cold degradation and filth.

  “If Morrigan’s been a prisoner of Variant’s since the war, that explains why no one has seen or heard from her for so long,” Revenant barks out.

  “This could certainly strengthen our claim against Variant,” Cambion says in that tone of voice that reveals he’s deep in thought. He begins pacing as the sprite buzzes around his head. Cambion swats at the annoying thing thoughtlessly, his focus elsewhere. “The people need to know Morrigan’s still alive because that information alone will give them hope of restoring the balance.” He’s quiet for a moment or two as he turns to face me. “Perhaps she could speak on our behalf.”

  “You make it sound as though Morrigan is Variant’s roommate and not his ward,” I nearly spit the words. Sometimes Cambion’s just so fucking stupid. “If Variant’s trapped her and she’s his prisoner as much as we are, she’ll be in no position to help us or our cause.”

  “But how do you trap the Midnight Queen?” Revenant asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “Morrigan is the answer,” Cambion continues, nodding. “Free her and the three of us have a chance to defeat Variant.”

  “Four of us,” Eilish corrects. Cambion offers her a glare but doesn’t comment.

  “Five of us,” the sprite corrects them both. Bloody irritating thing.

  “And how do you suggest we free Morrigan?” I continue, frowning at the stupid elf. “Has it occurred to you that we’re stuck in this shithole, a shithole that’s warded by magic?”

  “Shadows cannot be imprisoned,” Revenant says as I turn to look at him quickly. He holds my gaze but neither of us says anything. His expression is a knowing one. I, of course, wonder if Pyre’s spirits visited Revenant as well and I assume they have. As Revenant and I are creatures of shadow; it follows that Pyre’s shadows would seek us both.

  ###

  Eilish

  “Eat,” Variant says and I swallow hard.

  There’s a cornucopia of food spread out on the table before us and even though my stomach growls, I don’t want to give Variant the satisfaction of relishing the food in front of me. Instead, I force my gaze away from the breads, cheeses, meats and puddings.

  “I know you are hungry,” he says.

  “I’m not,” I lie.

  “You are a difficult guest to please,” he responds as he reaches forward and refills his goblet with wine. Then he leans back in his overly large chair at the head of a table which is far too long for just the two of us. I sit in the chair just to the left of him.

  “I’m hardly your guest,” I mutter.

  It’s just the two of us in the room. Variant dismissed his servants, saying he wanted no interruptions.

  “I must admit, I’m surprised by your reaction to me, Angel,” he says as he watches me with curious eyes. He holds his goblet close to his mouth but doesn’t take a sip. Instead, he swirls the libation round and round, never taking his eyes from me.

  “My name isn’t Angel.”

  “Eilish,” he corrects himself. I just nod as he continues. “Most prisoners would be grateful for the opportunity to dine with their King,” he says and then glances down at the opulence of my gown—a gown he provided for me. “And they would show gratitude for such glorious gifts bestowed on them.” He takes a sip of his wine and places the chalice back on the mahogany table top. “At the very least, they would have the good sense to fear me.”

  “I do fear you,” I say quickly as I turn to face him.

  “Why?” he asks and narrows his eyes as he leans closer to me. “Tell me why you fear me.”

  Based on the excitement in his eyes, I can tell that he loves the fact that people fear him. And I’m not different. “Because… you’re unpredictable,” I start and my heartbeat begins increasing as he leans closer to me. I hate him, it’s true. But, I also can’t help my body’s reaction to him—the Succubus’ reaction to him. She wants him. Just as much as he appears to want me.

  “Certainly there’s more than that?” he asks and frowns, as though disappointed with my response.

  “Of course,” I answer with a clipped nod. “I know what you’ve done to others of my kind.”

  “Do you?”

  “You killed all male angels,” I answer with a nod.

  “I did.”

  “And you said you had a room full of their wings,” I continue as he nods again. “I imagine that room doesn’t just house the wings of male angels.”

  “It doesn’t,” he responds.

  I look up at him then. “Can I ask you what you’ve done with all the female angels?”

  “No,” he answers. “And you would do well to remember the fact that you are my prisoner and I am your king.”

  I swallow hard as I nod and wonder if I’m pushing my luck. Variant is unpredictable, yes, and it’s due to that fact that I need to tread carefully. Push him too far and there’s no telling what he’ll do. He strikes me as impulsive and an unpredictable, impulsive lunatic is the most dangerous sort.

  “I appreciate your interest, all the same,” he says with a chuckle. “I must admit, I do prefer it when you actually speak during our time together.”

  “Yet, you don’t want me to ask questions,” I bark and then
swallow hard.

  He chuckles. “Touché, Angel, touché.”

  The last time he requested my company, I remained silent—mainly because I was terrified of him and not really sure how to act—what to do or what to say. I can’t say why this meeting is different. Maybe I’m tired of having questions with no answers. Or maybe I’m just fed up with this game Variant plays with me. I’m more than sure he plans to kill me—I’m just unsure as to when… or how.

  “I never said I didn’t want you to ask questions,” he argues. “I just would remind you to tread carefully.”

  “Reminder accepted,” I say with a quick sigh.

  He looks at the food spread out before us. “Eat, Eilish,” he says. “I don’t want to ask you again.”

  I take a deep breath and drop my attention from the wall ahead of me to the spread before me. My stomach immediately growls and a flush overcomes my cheeks.

  “It’s obvious you’re hungry. I don’t know why you pretend you’re not,” he says with another chuckle as he downs his glass of wine and refills it. “Certainly you don’t think I’ve poisoned the food?”

  I glance down at the sumptuous feast. “That thought hadn’t actually occurred to me,” I admit.

  “If I wanted you dead, poisoning you would not be my choice.”

  I nod and then help myself to the food before me. My stomach continues to growl but Variant has the decency not to say anything.

  “I want to know who has had you,” he says.

  “Had me?” I repeat.

  “Dragan or Cambion?” he explains. “You told me one of them has had you. I wish to know which one.”

  “Why?” I demand.

  “Call it curiosity,” he answers as I down a bite of potato with a swig of something bitter that makes my cheeks hollow.

  Variant chuckles as he fills my glass with white wine and hands it to me. “Most my female guests enjoy this wine as it’s quite sweet.”

  “You’ve had many female guests?” I ask, saying the words without thinking about them.

  He leans back again and studies me with a smile. “Is that jealousy I detect?”