Bound By Blood (7 page)

             
What did it mean?
Storms of power could mean
many things
,
but this one was bringing something or ann
ouncing the arrival of . . . what?
This one was
prophecy;
s
he could feel it deep inside
.

             
She forced herself to put her questions and curio
sities away
for now. Dĩas
wanted her for something and s
he had better go and find out
before he sent something even
more
vi
le
th
an the likes of Monéaklá
to fetch her
.
Samanthŕa began
to mist
,
when
Dezarãe
stopped her.

             
“Is there anything you would like to confess
,
sister?”

             
“First rule of our mother
’
s
,
”
Samanthŕa smiled
,
for
she inherited her curse of
mischief and curiosity from Chymeŕah herself
. “
Never
confess to anything
before
you are bluntly accused
and proven guilty
of it.
"

             
"Oh?"

             
"
This way you do not confess to the wrong thing and find yourself in even more trouble.” She forced a laugh and then
made her exit in the form of mist
. She never wanted her sisters to worry
,
so she always blew off
their concern
. Truth was
,
though
,
she was a little worried
herself
,
this time
.

~
Chapter 2
~

Dĩas’
s
Cage

***

Foolish is
he,
who masters the cage
,

Gilded and clever, admired and depraved.

Locking within the
prettiest of
his
desires
,

Hiding her veil,
and
smoldering her fires.

But alas, fate will have its vengeful way,

For s
ooner or later
. . .
the jailor is tricked
,

His method,
far too
repetitive.

And
the
lock
will
get
picked.

So f
oolish is he, tear
on weak knee
,

Throwing a crumb or two on the floor.

For the c
age doth
fall,
none
heeds his call.

The whip is snapped forever more.

Hark! T
he horizon she seeks, so did one speak
,

o
f the beauty who is free and now runs.

No turning back, the past is black.

And t
he phoenix do
th
fly toward the sun.

***

             
“
I
t’s
about
time
.”
Dĩas Lampiŕ
growled
impatiently
from his throne
,
as
Samanthŕa materialized before
him. The area filled with her signature scent --
sweet
and exotic
smell
of jasmine
and winter rose
--once h
er body took shape.

             
All the while, Dĩas awaited her arrival, without patience, inside t
he Great Hall
,
a very large space lit by hundreds of candles burning on black iron candelabras. Normally
,
they would have dimmed
the room with large crystals
,
but the power of her father’s throne drained them
all
too quickly.

             
His throne was large and embedded on a high pedestal at the farthe
st end
. A black seamless
pathway along
the floor
led to it
,
wh
er
e fires burned in huge stone pits all the way down the center. The room
itself
seemed to lack walls; they faded into distant blackness while the ceiling opened towards the sky above.
The sky, Samanthŕa noticed, was still swirling above, with the impending mystery of the storm.

             
"As if I have eternity to simply wait on
you
." His unhappiness continued to brew.

             
“I
came as quickly as you called
,
f
ather
,
”
Samanthŕa replied
.
“I wish you would have sent someone else
other
than
Monéaklá
, though
. You know how I feel about her.” She prepared herself for whatever may come.
Small, truthful chatter
ing words
only bought her
more
time.

             
He sat there saying
nil while
h
is expression
remained
unreadable
.
H
e
was l
arge
, but very lean and
extremely
alluring for a man who held the reflection of forty
-Phãegen-years
.
Lengthy
sable
hair hung down powerful shoulders.
His large pale blue eyes were penetrating as alway
s
and his
features
resembled th
ose
of a
Grecian
sculpture
.

             
And a
t
last,
he spoke.
“I knew if I sent
her
, you would be tripping over yourself to leave. An
yone else and
you might have taken longer . . .
attempting to pick their brains, instead of asking
me
directly
.”

             
“You know me so well.” She smiled sweetly
,
and without knowing
it,
work
ed
the charms she inherited from her mother.

             
"Do I?"
Dĩas stood
, black boots
banging
to the floor
. They were tall,
leading up ove
r his knee, blending with matching
pants and
gathered
shirt.
He grabbed his jacket
from
behind him, a multicolored
spun
thing that had long ta
il
s in the back, giving him a wicked edg
e
of rakishness
.

             
"Do you what, father?"

             
“
K
now you
so well
?
"

             
"What sort of thing is that to ask?" She played coy.

             
"
Sometimes I wonder.
" He paused, perhaps dissecting her with his mind. And perhaps that failed, for he moved onto other things. "
Regar
dless,
t
he festival is called off for tonight. I assume you have noticed the storm?”

             
Hidden panic gripped her chest.
“How can the festival be called off? The
Phãegens
are already lighting the fires
,
”
s
he told him.
He cannot do this. We will lose the
Lycãons
forever if he does.
Evil shall pick our bloodlines off one by one, then
.
Divided, we are destroyed
. "The rituals are--"

             
“Let me put it another way
,
then
. The fes
tival is called off for the
families dominated by the
Strygĩ
and
not
by their beast.
It’s
not
safe.
"

             
"But
f
ather, it is
our
duty," she tried another approach, "To protect the Phãegens and--"

             
"
If the bloody M
oppães
of nature wish to go tramping about when there is danger afoot, so be it. But know this;
our b
loodlines
will not
be protecting them th
is night
nor anything else foolish enough to go traipsing about
.
We shall keep to our
Realm
s
.
” He raised a daring brow.

             
"Danger or not,
we should not defy the Goddess. Tonight is sacred. I
t is Beal-Tene--
”

             
“
Do not begin to lecture me on the Goddess.
I
, more so than you, know her ways. This matter is finished.
It’s
not
open to debate.
" He turned his back, as if turning yet another page of ever-changing subjects. "I
have to attend a meeting in the Higher
Realm
s. This storm brings great concern.
We
,"
he spoke of those with great power, "C
annot trace the source of it.
We
cannot connect an imprint to anyone or anything that we know. Items of great importance
are missing. Items of
powerful
importance are missing.
Which brings me
as
to why I summoned you here
--
"

             
"Oh?"

             
"Y
ou wouldn’t know anything
about
this
,
would you?
” He
whipped around like a snake striking, staring
Samanthŕa
directly in the eyes
. . . towering over
.

             
“Are you accusing
me
of starting this storm?
"
If only she had so much power . . .

             
"Am I?" A brow rose to high dept
hs
.

             
"
If I had, then my imprint would be all over it.
" She stated the obvious without fear. "
I can also assure you that I have not
stolen
anything either.
I can’t believe you are now adding
thief
to the list of things you find unworthy
about
me.”
Samanthŕa
rolled her eye
s but stood her ground. She was
offended
and her anger wanted to rear its head and bite him even if she knew that would be a death wish
.

             
He walked around the room a bit in silence.
             
Poised, hands behind his back,
“I had to ask. It’s hard to tell
what
you
might
have gotten yourself into
,
”
h
e admitted. “Regardless, I
am
concerned
over
this storm. It makes no sense to anyone. I would say it was
from
the hand of Evil
and their wretched bloodlines
,
but I now know that’s impossible.
"