† † †
Pravus marched through the corridors in search of Credan. He hadn’t heard a peep or seen anyone or anything in regard to the armies his constituents would provide. They must be there by dawn. If Credan failed him, the man would pay with his life, friend or not.
Up ahead, a light shone through the open doorway into the war room.
Credan.
Pravus stormed forward, his tongue full of vitriol and ready to be released. He rounded the corner, entered the room, and came to a full stop as he took stock of the war room table. Anger rushed from his mind, replaced by carnal desire.
Aria sat on the table’s edge in a sheer night robe but wore nothing underneath it. Untied and opened in the front, its lengths hung to the sides of her legs, exposing the insides of her voluptuous breasts.
Pravus reached behind himself and shut the door without taking his eyes off of his wanton seductress. He left a trail of clothes as he made his way over to the table, stripping off his last sock by the time he reached her. He grabbed her hips, ready to ravish her, but she pushed him back with a hand to his chest.
“Not yet, my love.” She smiled deviously. “You think you’re aching to get inside me now but wait until I’ve told you the good news. Once you have, I’m certain you won’t be able to restrain yourself.”
He took a deep breath and reined in his lust. “This had better be good.”
She bit down on her lower lip as she hopped off the table, drawing a drop of blood. Pravus looked away as the other lust awakened within him.
Not now, damn you.
Aria turned toward the table and grabbed one of the maps for the Ancient Realm. She rolled it out and placed markers on Galondu Castle and the area northwest of Duos Flumen. She looked back at him, her lower lip dotted with blood. “Roughly 400 miles, correct?”
It took every ounce of willpower for Pravus to maintain focus on Aria’s words and not just her lips. “Yes.”
“Based on all the equipment and the state of the people under Cinolth’s control, we’d be lucky to travel five miles a day.”
Pravus nearly danced in place, torn between sexual and blood lusts. “Agreed.”
“So, that would put us at eighty days just to reach that point, still another thirty-five miles from Elatos. That march would be another seven days. Perhaps three or four if we doubled the pace.”
Pravus closed his eyes. “Where is this leading?”
“Three months. In that time, King Zaridus would have plenty of time to gather his forces and fortify the three cities. In that scenario, the battles will be much bloodier, and we will lose more of our army.”
Pravus groaned. “And the alternative?”
She grabbed his arm. Her cold touch soothed his smoldering flesh. “Watch.”
He opened his eyes and held her waist as she leaned over the map. Had her night robe not separated them, he would’ve lost all control. He leaned into her and peered over her shoulder.
Aria took the map and folded the middle of it underneath the ends, joining Galondu Castle with the area northwest of Duos Flumen. “Do you understand now?”
Frustrated and tired of waiting, he pulled her around to face him. “You’ve folded the map. This means nothing.” He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.
She pushed him back again. “Restrain yourself, husband, or you’ll find yourself in a cold bed tonight.”
He grabbed her night robe and pulled it off her shoulders. “Nothing will keep me apart from you tonight.”
She covered herself with her arms and glared at him. “Cinolth and I have a plan, but it will require resources I’m sure you can easily find.”
The name Cinolth nearly drove the lust from him. He straightened. “What kind of plan, and what resources are we talking about?”
“We will build Zhäíʈfäí Dhä between here and there.”
Pravus scoffed, “Are you mad? No one has the power…” His voice trailed off.
Aria grinned deviously. “So you understand then?”
Pravus eyed the map. “And what will it take to build this gateway?”
“We will need two of them. One for each side.” She pointed where they’d go. “Each gateway will take seven days to build, but we will need as many Fizärd Ōírdh as you can find.”
Pravus scratched his head. “Earth wizards… perhaps Wrik can help sort that out.”
“Perfect. I will go speak with him now.” She pushed past him.
Pravus grabbed Aria’s waist, spun her around, and lifted her onto the table’s edge. “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve thoroughly defiled this table.”
Aria wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close. “What are you waiting for, husband?”
† † †
A knock sounded at Wrik’s bedchamber door, pulling him from his sleep. He lay there for several moments wondering if the sound had been part of a dream, but then another knock came, louder and more persistent.
Wrik sat up and swung his feet off the bed. Another knock.
“I heard you the first time,” he yelled. “Show some restraint.”
“Əllíʈ ʊb,” he muttered. The candle on his desk burst with life. He rubbed his eyes and squinted. The entire room was a blurry mess. He stood and retrieved his spectacles from the desk and placed them on his face. They made his vision marginally better. He always had a hard time focusing his eyes right after waking up.
He grabbed the candle holder and walked over to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Alderan. I came to say goodbye.”
Wrik unbolted the door and cracked it open. “And why would you be leaving at this hour?”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing left for me here. I’m going back home.” The silver collar wrapped around Alderan’s neck gleamed in the candlelight.
Ƨäbräƨär.
Wrik opened the door farther. “And where is home?”
Alderan looked toward the floor. “It used to be Viscus D’Silva, but the entire town is dead.” He scratched his head. “To be honest, I’m not sure anymore. Anywhere but here. Perhaps Tyrosha.”
Tyrosha. Its name brought back memories Wrik hadn’t thought about in decades. Memories he didn’t want to think about. But one could never stop the mind from triggering memories. Names, sounds, smells, and many other things could set it off without warning. The only positive thing he recalled of Tyrosha were its salt baths. But those weren’t worth enduring the memories that came with them.
Wrik shook away the rest of the night from his eyes and the thoughts of Tyrosha with it. “Tyrosha is quite some distance from here. Do you plan on walking all that way?”
Alderan looked at him, clearly puzzled. “Walk there? Of course not. I’ll use the mirror. Same as I did before.”
“You can’t. Not with that collar on.” Wrik leaned around Alderan and scanned the corridor. Nothing seemed amiss and the shadows looked to be nothing more than just that. Nevertheless, he ushered Alderan inside and closed and locked the door behind them.
Alderan stood next to Wrik’s desk and faced him. His eyebrows drooped over the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean I can’t?” Alderan’s voice boomed and echoed in the small bedchamber.
Wrik glared at Alderan. “Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “If Pravus were to catch us alone together it’d be bad for us both.”
“He can’t do anything to me.” Alderan crossed his arms, and it pulled his shirt down a little in the front.
Even in the poor light Wrik saw the red tattoo on Alderan’s chest that looked like a feather. He eyed the stack of books on his desk. They sat slightly skewed and out of order. He’d address the thievery in a moment.
“Don’t fool yourself. He might not be able to take your life, but there are far worse things than death.”
Alderan swallowed hard. “I suppose you’re right.” He thumbed the collar around his neck. “So why can’t I use the mirror with this thing on?”
“That collar is called ƨäbräƨär. It blocks you from using your mezhik and stores the mezhik energy you try to use. Because it blocks mezhik, the mirror portal would determine that you are ʊnzhifʈäd and kill you when you step through it.”
“Ʊnzhifʈäd? What does it mean?”
“Ungifted. Without mezhik.”
Alderan pulled on the collar. “And how do I get it off?”
“You won’t be able to. Only another wizard can remove it.”
“Well then, take it off of me.” Alderan stepped closer.
“Although I have the ability to do so, I cannot remove it. It’s not worth the consequence of doing so.”
“Fine.” Alderan tried to move past Wrik, but Wrik blocked him from leaving. “Get out of my way,” growled Alderan.
“I’ll let you leave as soon as you explain to me how you came to possess my feather necklace.”
Alderan’s hand shot to his shirt collar, and his face paled several shades. “I… Um… Yesterday. It happened so fast that I didn’t know what to do. I swear that I was going to tell you about it, but I completely forgot it’d even happened after you brought Aria here to see me.”
“I expressly remember telling you to touch nothing in this room.” He scowled at Alderan. “You gave me your word.”
Alderan pulled his hair back behind his ears and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, and I’d planned on doing just that, but you were gone a long time and I got bored of just sitting there. I was going to take it off but couldn’t figure out how to do so.”
“How convenient.” Every time Wrik looked at Alderan he noticed a blurry spot on the right lens of his spectacles. He removed them from his face and breathed on them, fogging the glass.
Alderan shrugged. “It’s the truth. Please take it back if you know how to.”
Wrik wiped his spectacles with a kerchief from one of his pockets and then placed them back on his face. “It’s of no consequence. You may keep the necklace.”
Alderan looked down at his chest. “But what does it do?”
“What any necklace does.” Wrik grinned. “It hangs there and looks nice.”
Alderan traced the feather with his finger. “Then why did it sink into my skin and turn it red?”
“Think of it this way. When one raises a puppy from birth, the puppy becomes attached to that person and its loyalty virtually unbreakable. In a way, the necklace is the same as the puppy. I’d been saving it for many decades, waiting for the right moment to use it or the right person to give it to, but fate stepped in and the feather necklace presented itself to you. I will not undo what has been done.”
Alderan frowned. “There must be something more to it though.”
“Yes. A great friend sacrificed their own life when they gave that feather to me. I’d never cried as hard as I did that day, and I never have since.” Wrik wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I bound the feather to that necklace so that the feather would never be lost, but I couldn’t allow myself to wear it knowing what I’d done.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And I will explain it no further. You are its possessor, plain and simple.” Wrik moved over to his bed and sat down. “You may leave now. Go where you wish, but do not attempt to use the mirror. I will not be responsible.”
Alderan moved over to the door and unlocked it, but then he turned back. “You seem like a decent fellow, Wrik, so why are you here? Why are you part of this wretched plan to destroy peace and go to war?”
“My obsession is with prophecy and the fulfillment of it. I yearn to see branches trimmed and others fulfilled. How can I see things unfold firsthand without being in the thick of it?”
“Then you wish for the destruction of the Ancient Realm?”
“You misunderstand what I’m saying. I wish to see prophecy fulfilled, no matter the outcome. I do what is necessary to keep myself from influencing any given path.”
“And what if you had the chance to save yourself by pushing for a certain outcome? Would you still sit back and let it all play out?”
Wrik nodded. “It’s the very nature of who I am. I could never live with myself if I intervened. As I’m sure you know, death is not the end.”
“Then you believe in Ƨäʈūr and the afterlife? Kinzhdm ef Häfn?” asked Alderan.
“Call it what you will.”
Alderan raked his fingers through his hair. “I could never sit back and watch evil run rampant if I knew I could do something to stop it. I’d be compelled to act.”
Wrik shrugged. “Then act as you must. I won’t fault you for it, nor would I stop you.”
Alderan sighed loudly and then left the room, closing the door behind himself as he exited.
Wrik leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how Alderan played into future events, but the inclusion of the feather necklace intrigued him. He hadn’t seen that twist coming.
In the end, who will be left standing?
In his heart, he rooted for Aria to be that one, but Alderan had grown on him as well.
But there cannot be two.
† † †
Fully dressed, Aria strode down the castle corridor toward Wizard Wrik’s bedchamber. The late hour made no difference as her desire to get started on the gateway drove her forward. She rounded the last corner before reaching Wizard Wrik’s bedchamber and plowed right into Alderan, sending them both stuttering backward.
“I’m sorry,” said Aria. “Wasn’t expecting the corridor to be occupied at this hour.”
Alderan groaned as he walked past her, not saying a word or really looking at her.
She turned and rushed to catch him. “Wait up, Alderan.” He marched down the hallway as though he hadn’t heard her, but she knew he had.
She grabbed his arm when she caught up to him and pulled him back around.
He glared at her and spoke through gritted teeth. “Let go of my arm.”
“What’s wrong with you?” She truly didn’t understand his hostility toward her.
Rage flashed in his eyes, but he spoke with an even temper. “You cast me aside like refuse and allow that bastard you call a husband to put this collar on me so that I can’t leave, and you wonder what’s wrong? And that’s only part of it. You’re willing and ready to sacrifice countless, innocent lives, and for what purpose? Dress yourself up and pretend all you want, but you’ll never be a queen. If you take the throne by force, you will never rule the people. They will reject you and revolt. Is that what you want?”
Aria smacked Alderan’s face. The pop of the impact echoed through the corridor and stung her hand. It’d happened so fast. She’d never struck him before today. Hadn’t ever wanted to. Now, she’d done it twice. But he’d asked for it. Deserved it. So why did she feel so wretched about it when he stormed away?
Tears burned in her eyes. “Alderan, wait…” She knew he wouldn’t.
In the morning, she’d seek him out and set things right again. They wouldn’t be at odds for long. She’d see to it.
I know you still love me.
Aria patted her eyes dry and squeezed life back into her cheeks. She pounded on Wizard Wrik’s door when she arrived and tried the door without waiting for a response. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked. She called his name as she stepped inside and closed the door.
“First your brother, and now you. To what do I owe this late-night visit?”
Aria approached Wizard Wrik. “Alderan came to see you?” Her eyes narrowed. “What did he want?”
Wizard Wrik waived her off. “Assistance I could not offer him.”
“I see. Perhaps you’ll be more willing to assist me.”
“Ask, and it will be granted—” He held up a finger. “—if it’s within my power, of course.”
She sat on the edge of the bed next to Wizard Wrik. “How many Fizärd Ōírdh do you think you can round up?”
“Depends. How much time do
I have?”
Her hand moved to his knee. “We need them tomorrow. Can you do it?”
Wizard Wrik’s gaze fell to Aria’s hand. “Perhaps two. No more than that.”
“Two will be enough.” She stood, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Have them meet me north of the castle first thing in the morning.”
He touched his cheek where she’d kissed it. “You wish them to be free?”
“Yes. We need them to build a large wall of stone. Will that be a problem?”
He rubbed his head. “The situation could be a bit strenuous because they are currently collared and imprisoned here in the castle dungeons.”
Aria paced. “Find out why they’ve been detained. If the offense is minimal, we will offer them their freedom if they agree to help.”
“Oh, there’s no question as to why they reside in the dungeons.” The way Wizard Wrik said it drew Aria’s attention.
She thought back to the previous night in the war room.
Does this have something to do with Pravus and his rage?
She stopped by the door, exhaled, and crossed her arms. “I assure you that my husband will not stand in the way of this.”
Wizard Wrik nodded knowingly. “I’m sure you are right.”
He didn’t deny Pravus’s involvement.
“Good.” She left the room and closed the door behind herself.
She set her jaw and marched toward her bedchamber.
No more secrets.
† † †
Aria’s breath plumed from her lips as the cold morning air nipped at her exposed skin. The sun had risen an hour before but still hadn’t peeked over the dormant caldera looming over Galondu Castle to the west. Nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she envisioned the gateway they’d be building. She had no idea what it would take to accomplish the task but Cinolth would guide her and her mezhik through the process.
Wizard Wrik had located the two Fizärd Ōírdh as he’d promised, but neither of them seemed too keen to help with the task. It took quite a bit of coaxing and promises—most likely hollow ones—from Pravus to get them on board, but in the end, they knew they had little choice but to help.
Rended Souls Page 26