Forgotten fates part two.., p.24
Forgotten Fates: Part Two: A Forbidden Realms Novel, page 24
“She knows already.”
A quick tug at their joined hands forced Agate to stumble backward, the momentum ensuring she plowed straight into his chest.
“Ow, you nearly broke my nose, you big oaf!” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Are you wearing a chrome plate under that shirt?” She spoke with the same frenetic energy she infused into everything she did. The woman was a whirlwind on legs.
“I’m not.” He looked down at her in bewilderment. He was never quite certain what she was going on about.
“Oh.” Her lips parted, her tongue unwittingly brushing along her lips as her eyes traveled down the expanse of his chest. “Well, that hardly seems normal.”
Her fingers again prodded at her pixie shaped nose with an angry swipe, and Jez was left to wonder if Dravite and Agate had some distant Fae lineage. Their sharp yet feminine features fit, and so did their speed and strength. Regret and loss hit him swift at the thought which often plagued him, had he not distracted Dravite with the note he’d hidden for her inside that book of poems, she would’ve noticed Leira’s approach. She would’ve sensed the attack coming, she would be alive.
How can I miss her so deeply when our time together was so brief?
With an agitated breath, he forced himself to focus, there were issues at hand which needed his attention. Then Agate’s words filtered through his mind, and suspicion took hold.
“Agate what exactly did you mean by ‘she knows’?” What if he’d been wrong?
“Shit! If you lot have something to do with the disappearance of Levistus…”
Hazel-green eyes held his captive, her expression turning obstinate as her brow furrowed into a scowl, the result intimidating enough that it could scare off an enemy on the battlefield.
“What? Of course we didn’t take the Demon Prince. For hells’ sake angel, Sarratum-sa wishes him dead, not kept and fed.”
Her eyes sparked, obstinacy shifting to agitation, turning her eyes just a slightly deeper shade of green. Fascinating. And he had to fight back a grin when, as expected, her cheeks began to flush a dark red against her flawless complexion.
He folded his arms over his chest, amused at her struggle not to look in that direction. “Then how is it you know what I came here for?”
“Same way I knew you were coming here in the first place, duh. You do realize you guys aren’t the only ones with access to spies? Just because Sarratum-sa trusts the Demon King does not mean that courtesy is extended to the rest of the demonarchy.”
Shit, he had offended her.
She flung her hair back over her shoulder, the color, he noticed wasn’t truly black like Dravite’s had been, but a deep crimson.
“Is this why you came here, To accuse my queen of an act that would endanger the treaty? She has done everything within her power to ease the growing tension between the Hells and Asurim.” She was getting really riled. He rocked back on his heels, fascinated at her lack of caution, to be yelling in the face of a being as powerful as he… had been. “You haven’t got the slightest idea of the chaos that ensued after Dravite’s ceremony. The realm is in upheaval, our people are furious, there simply wouldn’t have been the time in her schedule for a game of demon snatch and grab.”
Laughter unexpectedly burst from his chest. “Snatch and grab?”
“Kidnapping sounds crude.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and lord save him, he looked. “We’re warlocks, not barbarians.”
“But… you still kidnap beings?” He cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
“Oh, of course we do, you think living sacrifices volunteer for the position? But we didn’t snatch En-Levistus. No one would dare anyway, his connection to Sarrum-sa protects him.”
“Don’t call him that!” Shock snapped him right back to his senses.
“Why ever not Jez? It’s what he is. I know, Dravite knew, and you know it as well. If he’s suffering the same as she is, then you must’ve heard him call out for her. She does… every night”
He pulled Agate flush against his body, brushing a kiss against her forehead as he pressed his finger against her soft lips. With a sense of dread, he scanned their surroundings.
“Gatie, don’t speak of this in the open ever again, it’s too dangerous.”
“It’s unfair…” When he looked down at her he noted that her gaze was still filled with anger, yet her eyes were quickly filling with tears. His arms enfolded her, without thought of repercussion.
He understood her sorrow. No matter how cruel and cold Amara’s behavior appeared at times, Agate still loved her Queen. And no matter how selfish and destructive Cassius’s behavior could be, Jez had come to love him. And they were hurting.
“Yes, it is.”
Deafening screams and cheers broke the heavy silence between them, the intense vibrations causing the floors to quake. The walls hummed with power as the onyx stone absorbed the energy which was being unleashed in the arena.
“What the Hells is that?”
“That is the alternative to war. After that epic clusterfuck in the Nessus during my sister’s ceremony, the principales and masters from every caste and every dominion descended upon the temple to demand war. Leira and Glasya dishonored Dravite and insulted our Sarratum. Warlock pride isn’t something you step on lightly. They want blood, so that’s what she’s giving them.”
She stepped out of his arms, giving him a quick pat on the chest, her attention drawn towards the battle sounds.
“What you hear is the sound of Tahazu Mitu, the battle of death. A tournament with one sole survivor, the winner is to inherit Dravite’s battalion and take her place as general within the Asurian infantry.”
For a few moments, he could do no more than stare, dumbfounded. “We weren’t made aware it had come this close war.” His fingers raked through his long blond hair, pushing it angrily from his face.
The Nessus already had Glasya to worry about, they couldn’t risk losing Asurim as an ally, and couldn’t afford them as an enemy.
“If Cassius finds out, he’s going to lose it. Fuck! How long will the tournament keep them distracted for?”
Agate had once again taken his hand in hers, her skin was soft, her touch gentle.
“It’s bought us some valuable time, there were a few among the more powerful ranks of the masters and principales who were actively sowing discord against the demonarchy, and against our Sarratum.”
When he didn’t reply, she continued. “I forget sometimes you aren’t fully brushed up on the history. The rulers of Hell haven’t always been kind to our people, for centuries we were no better than servants to their whims. Some, like Leira, still consider us such—filth. So it’s easy to understand why some of our own would rather see Hell be an enemy than an ally.”
Again, she tugged at his hand, urging him to follow along, he relented.
“Angel, a little trust please. Our Queen...” She tilted her head in defiance at him. “Would sooner pick up a sword herself than allow Asurim to go to war against the Hells, not as long as he remains seated upon that throne. All we needed was a little time for our Needlers to weed out the instigators.” She then grinned at him and winked. “And dispose of their bodies.”
When she finally stopped it was to stand before a wall of heavy black curtains. At Agate’s brisk nod, the warriors who stood guard moved the fabric aside to allow them passage to whatever lay beyond.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the transition as they stepped out from the darkness of the corridors and into the purple daylight of Asurim. When his vision cleared, he realized he was standing upon a lofty balcony, its panoramic view highlighting a massive arena, and the bloody battle taking place in its center.
“This is incredible…”
The stands which encircled the arena looked as if they reached all the way up into the silver clouds, each seat filled with spectators who roared and cheered in support of their champion. Floating columns held up banners which proudly waved on the gentle breeze, their colors and crests honoring the battalions which served the Asurian forces. The show of power was astounding.
When he finally managed to tear his gaze away from the spectacle before him, he grew aware of the fact he stood surrounded by the elite of warlock society. All nine of the Dominae were in attendance with their families, and to his surprise so were many master warlocks.
Dravite had begun to teach him about the intricacies of Asurian society, masters were the warlock equivalent of nobility, and nobility, be they demon or warlock, were a notorious pain in the ass to their regents.
“They are rich in influence and power, strategically it’s wiser to secure their support rather than lose it,” Agate whispered by his ear.
Some of the masters were standing by the balustrade eager to be seen there by the crowd confined within the stands. Prideful beings indeed. Others were watching and commenting on the battles which were taking place within the arena. But most were lounging about on daybeds, happily partaking of the food and libations offered while discussing topics ranging from the weather to magick and politics.
A light squeeze against his fingers had his attention snap back towards Agate, who gave him an encouraging smile. “Come on Angel, she’s expecting you and patience isn’t one of her stronger virtues.”
The roar of the crowd was overwhelming as he approached the small podium placed at the center ledge, certain to provide those who occupied the seats with an unobstructed view of the bloodshed below.
Louder than the roars and cheers was the hush which fell over the crowd when he moved closer, revealing his presence to the spectators. For a brief moment, even the fighting below appeared to come to a halt. He was no warlock, but even he could sense the animosity rising up from the crowd, he could feel thousands of eyes on him, their gazes ripping him to shreds.
“You weren’t kidding about the tension, were you?”
“Nope, not even a little.”
From behind one of the large seats, the soft sound of feminine laughter bubbled up. “Ah, blessed silence. That can only mean that my guest of honor has arrived.”
Over the back of a tall seat, Amara’s head popped up, an impish grin on her lips. “Herald don’t fret, come join me. They may look mean, but I promise you it’s all bark with no bite, I’ve muzzled them myself.”
He was guided to a seat at Amara’s right, a seat which Dravite once told him was reserved for only the highest honored guest, the seat to her left remained unoccupied, the seat of the Sarrum.
She always stays on his right. Dravite and he had once compared notes when discussing security, and he was left to wonder if that was the reason, or if there was more to it. Neither of them were sticklers for protocol, but in this, the Priestess never wavered.
“I do believe the stir caused by your entrance has bested my own.”
The corners of her lips were upturned in a cheeky grin, the cyan color of her eyes sparkling with mischief and something else, something unnatural, and her cheeks were flushed — as if she were touched with fever. He had seen that same gleam in Cassius' eyes many times before. Poison.
He gave a quick glance at Agate wondering if she knew, or had someone poisoned her? The sad smile he received in answer confirmed the troublesome suspicion. It was no accident; it seemed that despite appearances, their Queen was faring no better than their King.
“It’s considered rude to out-stage the Sarratum you know. How fortunate for you that I’m no longer a prideful creature, or I would’ve taken offense.”
“Is that so highness? I was certain that your pride could survive such a minor slight.” A cheeky grin creased his face.
“Pride carries an acrid taste when made to swallow, thus I no longer care for it.”
With the exception of the visit with Mephistopheles, he’d only ever seen Amara clothed in the dark robes which symbolized her status of high priestess. Today was different, she was clad in deep purple silks which transformed into a midnight blue shade whenever she moved. Silver chains had been attached, keeping the flimsy material bound together at her breasts and hips, which were encircled by a belt of darkly shimmering crystals. An emerald diadem had been placed against her forehead, accenting the now turquoise coloring of her hair, which had been woven into braids atop her head.
Today she wasn’t the priestess he’d come to know, she was the Sarratum of Asurim. Every inch of her a statement of wealth and power. The change was startling. He well understood the need for the tournament, and to win the favor of the masters, but seeing her like this threw him.
Outwardly Amara appeared everything strong, regal and radiant, but when one bothered to look beyond the façade and the too-easy smile, it was easy to see that she appeared lost and utterly miserable. No wonder Agate had so readily jumped to her defense, their Queen was breaking. Taking a gamble on instinct he leaned in closer as to take her into confidence.
“I am sorry for the news Priestess, for had you been prideful still, I would’ve told you that you’re by far the most beautiful peacock I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”
His gamble was rewarded with a burst of genuine laughter.
“A peacock?” She then looked at her gown in surprise as if suddenly realizing the similarity in colors.
He moved closer still. “Even in dark robes and bared feet, you’re more a queen than Leira could ever be in all her finery. Don’t do this to yourself, you have nothing to prove, not to them, not to Cassius.”
He was surprised when her gloved hand moved to cover his shoulder, her eyes diligently avoiding his. He’d hit the mark.
“Thank you Jez’Piel.”
With a short nod, he eased back into his seat, understanding the part he was asked to play. He could help ease the tension by showing a united front, a representation of the peace between The Nessus and Asurim.
“Tell me, are you a fan of combat sports?”
“More so when taking part rather than being a spectator.”
Mara’s gaze moved back to the battle, and his followed, just in time to catch a tall female force open a trans-dimensional vortex right above the head of a male warlock twice her size, who was busily conjuring up what looked to be a hell beast.
“She miscalculated where the vortex would open.” He stared in horror at the female who was about to be ripped apart by the feral beast as soon as it was released from the summoning circle.
“Or did she?” Amara inched closer to the edge of her seat, her brows raised with interest. His own gaze followed.
Before the male warlock had time to shatter the circle which imprisoned the summoned hell-beast, the female released her hold and the vortex snapped shut, effectively severing his head.
“And somewhere across time and space, a decapitated head just appeared out of thin air…”
The crowd exploded into cheers and war cries when the man’s headless body collapsed upon the red sand of the arena, staining the field with his blood.
“Are you very sure En-Levistus could not stay lost?”
Jez’s grin widened at the brazen question. “You know very well Cassius wants his advisor back, alive preferably.”
“And you came here to search my dungeons?”
Jez’s grin turned rueful, recalling with a heavy sense of shame she had, in fact, been the original suspect. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, certain he could feel Agate’s angry glare burning a hole into the back of his head from the seat beside him.
“I came to ask for your assistance in locating him.”
She didn’t answer, instead, her attention remained upon the arena, where only three warriors remained standing among the large number of bodies of those slain in battle.
“The female warrior is named Andromeda, she was a protégé of General Dravite herself until promoted to second in command in the legionnaire battalion.”
Agate’s small hand moved into his, and he gave it a light squeeze. He admired Andromeda’s tactics as she battled, the warrior making the most out of both skill and ingenuity. The knowledge that it’d been his Dravite who had honed those skills filled his chest with pride, and he could clearly see the same emotion reflected in Agate’s eyes. In that instant, he was no longer an impartial spectator to the tournament.
“What are her odds?”
Amara’s slender shoulders came up in a shrug. “Hard to tell, no one believed her capable of surviving beyond the fourth round, yet here we are.”
All eyes moved to the center of the arena as a strong pulse of magick rippled through the air. The two warriors appeared to have joined forces against Andromeda, imprisoning her within her own protection circle as she was forced to shield herself against a blast of green fire.
“That’s Hexafire,” Agate shouted in his ear over the roar of the crowd.
“The same fire used to burn innocent men and women who had stood accused of witchcraft, their despair caused their souls to merge with the flames. A powerful summons. As soon as the flame makes even the barest contact with a victim, its fire will spread. First, it burns away only the outer flesh, leaving the muscles intact. When all skin and hair is burned away the flames latch onto muscle and sinew. The flames cannot be doused, and the cycle repeats itself until there’s nothing left of the victim but a pile of ash.”
Of the two warlocks who banded together, one was controlling the Hexafire, while the other appeared to be conjuring a spell. Suddenly, the corpses of the fallen warriors littering the arena began to rise, then walk, The horde of undead walked straight through the flames of Hexafire as they slammed their burning bodies against into Andromeda’s protection barrier in an attempt to breach it. They succeeded when Andromeda appeared to lose footing, breaking her focus, and shattering her circle.
“Shit!” Agate hung over the balustrade to see, Jez quickly grabbing her waist to steady her as he himself moved to the edge of his seat. Andromeda couldn’t be seen, and he could only hope she’d managed to escape the undead, or worse, the Hexafire.
The two remaining warriors wasted no time turning on each other as hell beasts rose from the ground to attack the undead. As soon as they attacked, the beasts began to howl in agony, the hexafire an impartial force as it ate away at the skin and fur. Yet even as the fire consumed them, the beasts continued their attack. Not because they chose to do so, worse, they were under the complete control of the warlock who had summoned them.
