“Send me back home. She waits for me, and I must be there for her,” Lore ordered.
Acaelo moved around behind Lore, causing him to turn to keep his brother in his sights. “Do you like your abode?”
“What abode?” Lore asked. “My home is back where my Evangeline is. I demand you return me to her.”
Acaelo waved his hand about, causing the white haze to move this way and that. “She’s not in that hovel you call a home. How can one acclimate to such a tiny space when you were made to be all things?”
“I don’t care to be all things. I don’t care to be anything, other than me, and mate to my female. Send me back to her. Please. I’ve seen enough.”
“No, you’ve not seen nearly enough.”
“Acaelo!” Lore shouted.
“What?” Acaelo answered.
“Take me back to Evangeline! Please. You’ve punished us long enough. I am sorry. So sorry for all the pain I’ve caused. All the chaos I’ve caused. All the heartache I’ve caused. Forgive me… please.”
Acaelo glared at Lore. “Just like that, forgive you?”
“Yes,” Lore answered simply.
“No. She hasn’t seen what you truly are yet. Oh, did I not make myself clear enough? She’s here.”
“Where?” Lore asked, glancing around.
“Down there. Living it again. All of it.”
“No! Acaelo, please!”
Acaelo meandered a step or two, his eyes looking above himself as though remembering. “You remember, don’t you? It was such a beautiful thing. Until you betrayed her. You broke her heart, broke her mind. Do you think once she lives it again, you know, what you did, that she’ll be permanently lost? Or will she remember this time and hate you forever?”
“You bastard! What is wrong with you? How can you even consider hurting her like that? How?!” Lore bellowed.
Acaelo stalked toward Lore and stopped only when he was standing toe to toe with Lore. “Because I will not be satisfied until I’ve destroyed all you ever loved!” he snarled. “You destroyed all there was of beauty in our world! You created chaos where there was none before! You drove wedges between all of us that can never be bridged! You forced change with your selfishness! You cost countless humans their lives with your petty battle for supremacy with Carrik! You deserve no consideration at all. You will be given none.”
“Do not pretend you care about any human! You never have! Your entire vengeance against me is focused solely on your female! When in truth, had she ever been your female, your mate, she’d have never even looked my way!”
Acaelo became much like Lore in the look of insanity he took on. He smiled, tilting his head this way and that. “Make no mistake, she was mine. I’d chosen her. That made her mine!”
“A mate is a piece of you apart from yourself. Not simply a female you’ve decided is yours.”
Acaelo advanced on Lore, his rage a living thing, spittle flying from his lips as he screamed. “You stole everything from me! You dared to touch mine! You tainted her, made her unworthy! For that, all you love, all you desire, will be destroyed.”
“You are a jealous, bitter, pitiful creature, where once there was so much more. You were once a male of worth, a deity that deserved to be worshiped. Now, you are nothing.”
“Do not begin to deign yourself worthy of understanding my actions,” Acaelo spat. “You’ve earned this. All is well deserved. Tit for tat, an eye for an eye, blood for blood, a life for a life.”
“I have earned this. They haven’t. You’ve lost your focus, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Was I to allow you to destroy the very world that supports us all?” Acaelo bellowed.
Lore shook his head. “No. The chaos, certainly it needed to stop. And the female you claimed — most certainly I was wrong, whether she was your mate or not. But these things were done by me. Not by Danae and definitely not by Evangeline.”
“Why do you wonder that they suffer in your stead? They are all you care about. The best way to hurt you.”
“But you’ve given Danae happiness finally! Why can’t you see it in your heart to give Evangeline the same leeway?”
“I’ve given Danae no such thing!”
Lore realized his mistake immediately. Acaelo wasn’t aware that Danae had been reborn, given a wonderful life.
“What is this you speak of?” Acaelo asked with a hushed voice.
“Nothing. I just assumed you’d surely become bored with torturing a child by now.”
Acaelo tilted his head to the side as though considering. Slowly he began to drift away, leaving Lore alone.
“Wait! Acaelo, please! Do what you will with me, but leave them alone!” It was too late, though, Acaelo was gone.
Lore screamed in anger and frustration. He could see nothing, make sense of no direction, up, down, backward or forward, he couldn’t tell the difference.
Frustrated, he shoved his hand in his trouser pockets, his mind whirling, trying to understand what had just happened. His right hand hit something hard in his pocket. His brow crinkled as his fingers curled around whatever it was. Then, suddenly he knew even before he withdrew it. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and looked down at the shiny, fiery, sparkling crystal formation in his hand. Lily had slipped it in there. And he’d put it back into his pocket after he’d shown it to Enthrall and had forgotten about it. He lifted the crystal and pressed his lips to it. He closed his eyes and concentrated, the same concentration he used to use to manipulate his mists and the few powers his brother had had to leave him to preserve the shaky balance of nature all those centuries ago. Lily, protect yourself, love. He is coming for you. Hide yourself away!
He had no idea how long he stayed there, rooted to that one spot in the fog, repeating his message over and over again, praying that Lily heard, that she received his warning.
Chapter 12
Slowly Murder became aware of a cool, damp cloth being gently pressed against his skin. His neck hurt, his head was heavy with his horns and he’d been unconscious, his chin resting on his own chest. He stretched his neck tentatively, first one way, then the other.
“Don’t move too quickly. You may cause yourself more harm.”
Murder’s nostrils flared as he inhaled. Didn’t make any sense, all he scented was sulfur, smoke, rot. He heeded the advice he’d heard and very gradually lifted his head until he was looking directly at the person slowly bathing his brow, his face, his shoulders, arms and his stomach with a cool, wet cloth.
He didn’t speak, just glared at her. Oh, he knew this guard was a female. He was staring into the same midnight blue eyes that had encouraged him to swallow the contents of the protection vial he’d worn around his neck. She was fully uniformed, helmet and all, but her eyes were the giveaway.
She dipped the cloth into a stone carved bowl that was filled with water again and reached out to bathe his stomach with it.
Murder clenched his stomach muscles and arched his back as much as he could in an effort to pull his flesh away from her.
She saw it and stopped midway to his belly. She looked up into his eyes. “I won’t hurt you. I’m only trying to bathe your wounds, to keep you from infection.”
Murder licked his dry, cracked lips, and swallowed. “Leave me,” he managed to get out more forcefully than he expected.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Don’t need you,” he answered.
She watched him for what seemed like forever before finally nodding. She backed up several steps before turning her back on him and walking toward the door. She set the bowl on the floor and glanced back at him before opening the door and leaving, just as he told her to do.
Murder felt a moment of unease as she left him, but shook it off, chiding himself for even considering it was better to have her here, than not. He looked up the length of his right arm, then up the length of his left. There was no way he could free himself. His eyes followed the chains that led from the metal cuffs that were clamped around his wrists to the
hooks in the raw shale ceiling of the chamber he was in, and then back down to where they led behind him. He strained to glance over his shoulder to see where they led. He was even more discouraged when he realized they led to large, heavy anchors that had been driven in the ground behind him. He tried to pull against them, but they only tightened with his struggling.
Murder tried to move a leg and realized, without being able to see his own feet, that they, too, were manacled, and the chains on them were run through hooks, one each on the opposite sides of the room. He was completely at their mercy. He rolled his neck, moved his rib cage slowly; any part of his body that he could manage to move, even just a bit, he did so. He tried to open his wings and stretch them. But realized they’d been bound tightly against his back, preventing him from extending them at all. He growled his frustration as he rolled his jaw, opening and closing his mouth, squinting his eyes. As far as he could tell, he was sore, but nothing seemed broken or permanently damaged. Surely, they’d beaten him into unconsciousness — how else could they have gotten him here without his knowledge. He took a deep breath and blew it out. Then he closed his eyes and started calling for Lore. He didn’t know if Lore could hear him or not, but he knew that Lore was likely the only one who could come for him. And he knew that both Destroy and Lore knew where he was. Someone would come for him. Lily had said she’d see him again — all he had to do was survive until someone came for him. He looked around the dark, scarred walls of the cell they’d put him in. The heat was nearly unbearable. The red haze and charcoal dust were enough to choke any breathing creature. His eyes fell on the bowl near the door. Maybe he could manage to find a way to escape before they even had time to come for him. Quickly he sent a message to Lore. “Don’t come yet. I have this.”
He lifted his head, curled his tongue inside his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.
Moments later the door opened, and the same guard entered. “Yes?”
“Some water, maybe? To drink?” he asked, belligerent expression firmly in place, as though he resented having to depend on her at all. He couldn’t seem as though he was giving in too quickly.
She nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Phrygia closed the heavy iron-enforced door behind her and looked up and down the corridor. She had to be careful. She wasn’t supposed to be caring for the new prisoner as she’d done with the Angel. True, she was one of the jailers here, but caring for an Angel who’d been hidden away vs. a prisoner who’d forced his way into their domain and helped that Angel escape were two different things. She waited a moment to be sure that she was not watched, then made her way quickly to the spring that flowed here. She used her own canteen to scoop some of the cool, clear water from the spring to take back to her prisoner. There was a slight sulfur smell to the water, as there was to everything here, but it was water just the same. It was the only water they had. She’d drunk it every day since she’d been locked away down here, and it hadn’t killed her yet — not that anything could.
She went back to her post, taking tiny sips of the water so that it appeared the water was for her if anyone was watching. Finally, satisfied that she’d not been observed, she unlocked the door and let herself in, quickly closing it behind her.
Her eyes never failed to be drawn to the huge, dark Gargoyle before her. He was without equal. He was lethal. He was beautiful. He was huge, and he was graceful. His body called to her in a way she’d never experienced. She allowed her eyes to travel from the pointed claws of his toes, the length of his body, pausing on all her favorite places, until finally they met his furious yellow eyes.
He glared at her. His anger at having been chained as he was barely contained. “I’m sorry you’re chained like this. They thought it was necessary to keep you under control.”
“Of course it’s not necessary. I’ll be happy to cooperate,” he answered sarcastically.
Phrygia smiled. “I’m sure.” She approached him and reached out to hold the canteen to his lips.
Murder found himself thirsty and greedily drank down all the water.
When there was none left, Phrygia lowered it. “I’ll bring you some more a little later when I’m sure no one is watching.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why would you care to bring me water? Why were you bathing my wounds?”
“You have no more wounds,” she said, indicating his stomach by nudging her chin in that direction.
Murder tried to look down, but strung up as he was, it was hard to see.
“They whipped you. Sliced at you, and you bled, but almost as soon as they leave here, the wounds heal, the bleeding stops. I was merely trying to insure that none of the poisons they use on their blades and leathers are sealed into your skin when it heals.”
“Why would you care?”
Phrygia shrugged. “I just do.”
“You’re just like them. You serve a master who knows no mercy, offers clemency to none, who sees torture as a pleasant way to pass the time. Why would you see me any differently than all the rest you take pleasure in dominating?”
“Everyone here,” she looked up at Murder, “almost everyone here, has earned their place. You haven’t. You don’t deserve this.” She looked around the room at the chains holding him in place. “This is wrong. Just like the Angel being here was wrong. If all I can do is offer you water and sustenance, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Murder watched her suspiciously. He was beginning to think, perhaps this one wasn’t like the rest. Maybe she wasn’t all she seemed. He decided to prod a little more, see what he could find out.
“A demon with a conscience, a heart? What a novel thing you must be,” he said with condescension.
Phrygia smiled sadly at the canteen she held in her hands. She turned and walked toward the door. She reached for the door handle, but stopped short of pulling it open. She didn’t turn around to meet his eyes again — they were too hypnotic. When she looked into them, it would be much too easy to lose herself in them. But she spoke to him.
“I may or may not be a demon. A conscience though, I certainly have. It is the cause of my wasting away here, century after century. But you’re wrong about the heart.” She patted her chest. “My heart has not lived here in a very, very long time.” She took a deep breath, held it for a moment before letting it out. “I’ll bring you more water when I’m able. Perhaps something to eat as well. I’m sorry you’re here.”
Murder didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to answer. How in the hell his jailer could make him want to kill her one moment and avenge her the next, he had no clue.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
Lily woke with a sense of urgency. Her heart was pounding, and she was frightened. She lay still in her bed, trying to figure out why she was afraid. Then she heard it. A deafening boom sounded outside. Rain was pelting her window and the roof of the house. Another deafening boom sounded like it was right on their deck outside. In fact, the whole house shook. Lily dove beneath her covers and pulled her pillow in with her to put over her head. The rain got louder, the winds started howling, and her house was trembling in the storm. She closed her eyes and wished Uncle Lore was here. He could always coax the really bad storms away from their house.
When she thought of Lore, she became even more afraid and started crying. She was careful to remain quiet — she didn’t want her Mama or her Papa to know she was crying. Uncle Lore had been gone a long time. It had been months since anyone had seen him or his Angel. And Uncle Murder was gone, too. But at least Uncle Murder would be back one day, that much she was sure of.
Lily felt someone lift the edges of her covers and peak inside. Lily lifted her head from her pillow and smiled through her tears at her Mama.
“Hey, little girl. The storm wake you?”
“Yes.”
“Can I lie down with you for a little while?”
Lily nodded, scooting over to make room for Carolena to slide beneath the covers with her.
“That is an angry storm out there!” Carolena said.
“I don’t like this one,” Lily answered.
“What? You? You love storms.”
“This one is different,” Lily said, snuggling into her mother’s arms.
Carolena smiled at her daughter in the darkness. She’d lost the baby lilt to her speech about a month ago. She was growing up so fast. “Well, it’s okay. We’re in here safe and sound.”
Lily nodded, but she wasn’t totally convinced. This wasn’t just a regular storm. This one felt different. It was as though she could feel the emotions of the storm. And the storm wasn’t happy.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
Lucitari hovered just above the wooden deck behind her. Another lightning bolt flashed toward her, and as she had the previous three times, she deflected it, sending it back up into the sky.
Acaelo had been furious. He was determined to find out who had allowed Danae to be reborn and into happiness no less. He followed the trail of her essence as he had often in the days of old. And as he descended on the home she inhabited with her parents, the traitor in his midst became obvious. His sister. His own sister hovered there, shielding them from his onslaught.
She deflected each of his attempts to destroy the home with the child in it. Finally, fury and frustration coupled together long enough to give him another idea. She protected the home above. He’d attack from below.
Acaelo gathered his lightning bolts and threw them at the ground, then sent the winds to blow life into the tiny sparks they left behind. They flared to life, and the orange glow began to show beneath the cedar deck she protected from above. Just as Lucitari noticed the orange flames, they were extinguished, and a heavy smoke filled the air beneath the home.
Lucitari smiled when she heard a familiar voice. “Fear not, sister dear. I am with you.”
“Terrus!”
“Who else?” he shot back, while scanning the ground and trees around them for any further tricks from their brother that may harm the child and her family sleeping within.
Lore Page 10