The Chaos Crystal (35 page)

Oh, yes you are, you obsessive little bitch.
This situation was bad enough. He wasn't going to let her dictate
all
the rules. 'I'll marry you when we get to Jelidia, Elyssa.
After
we've retrieved the crystal.
Before
we use it. That's when I'll do it and not a moment before.'

Elyssa clearly didn't like that timetable. 'Suppose I decide that's not good enough?'

He shrugged and turned his back on her. 'Then go explain it to Kentravyon. I'm sure he'll, be quite reasonable.'

'Kentravyon doesn't care if you live or die, Cayal,' she said, although there was a lack of confidence in her voice that betrayed her unwillingness to push the madman too far.

'Neither does Lukys, I'm sure,' he agreed. He turned to look at her again. 'But they've been planning this — near as I can tell — for several thousand years. And they can't attempt to restore Coryna for a few thousand or so after that, I believe, if they miss the King Tide this time around — thanks to you standing in their way. So dig your heels in, by all means. Try to

broker a deal with Kentravyon that's any better than the one I'm offering you. Or better yet, explain yourself to Lukys. If I can't die, I can at least enjoy the pain he'll make you suffer for the next few millennia for screwing up his plans.' He smiled coldly. 'Tides, that may even give me something to live for.'

Elyssa glared at him. 'You're a first-class bastard, Cayal.'

He raised a curious brow. 'So the wedding's off then, dear?'

She raised her hand to slap him, but Cayal was expecting something like that. He caught her wrist before it connected with his face, twisting it painfully behind her back, forcing her against him. She glared up at him, struggling more for show than effect. He pushed her against the railing and kissed her, hard and savagely — not because he desired her, but because Cayal had been alive for a very long time and if there was one thing immortals were good at, it was manipulating people, even when those people were other immortals who should know better.

His kiss was rough and brutal, but Elyssa routinely murdered her lovers in the throes of passion, so it was doubtful she cared about anything so inconvenient as a few bruises that would heal almost as soon as they were acquired.

Cayal could feel the fight draining from Elyssa with his kiss. As soon as he felt she was no longer resisting, he let go his painful grip of her wrist and took her in his arms like a lover instead. Cayal didn't kid himself that she was melting in his arms just from his kiss. Several thousand years of anticipation probably did the work more than his lips, but within moments he sensed that Elyssa — provided he kept her wanting more — would be putty in his hands, ready to do anything he asked.

Except call off the wedding, maybe.

'Tides, Cayal,' she breathed, when he finally came up for air. 'Do you know how long I've waited for that?'

Yes,
he wanted to tell her.
Which is why you're
such a fool.
But he was too smart to ruin the moment with sarcasm. 'How long?'

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. 'Since the first time you walked into the palace in Magreth.'

'That's a long time.'

'Worth it, though,' she said with a coy smile.

'Worth a look at your precious map?'

Elyssa pushed herself out of his arms, pouting. 'Tides, I should know better than to think you care one jot about me.' She didn't seem angry. Apparently being kissed by the object of an eight-thousand-year-long crush had a lasting effect.

'Why
should
I care?' he asked with a smile much more forced than Elyssa could imagine. 'You only want me for my body.'

That made her laugh softly. 'Come to my room.'

'We've discussed this already. You're going to have to wait until we're married.'

'Not for that, you fool,' she said, still smiling. 'That's where the map is.'

He nodded, more than a little relieved. 'I'll fetch Kentravyon, then.'

'Do you really think you need a chaperone?' she asked, rubbing her hands slowly up the front of his shirt, still trying — quite unsuccessfully — to look coy.

'He'll want to see the map.'

Elyssa looked disappointed. Then a thought occurred to her that made her brighten considerably. She slid her arms around his neck and looked up at him with a disturbingly happy smile. 'You know, Cayal, if this works, and I get a new body and a new face — a beautiful one, one that you find desirable — maybe I won't have to blackmail you into loving me.'

He was tempted to point out that it wasn't possible to blackmail anybody into loving her, but things were going too well at the moment to rock the boat with a comment so callous. So he smiled, took her hands from around his neck and raised them to his lips. 'Well, if I see something that takes my fancy in the way of beautiful bodies, Elyssa, I'll be sure to let you know.'

CHAPTER 33

As a boy, Declan Hawkes had once tried to row across the lake from Glaeba to Caelum. He couldn't remember exactly why he'd attempted such a feat. It might have been a dare. He might have been running away. More likely, he was trying to impress Arkady.

Whatever the reason, after several hours of rowing he was still depressingly close to Lebec, his hands were raw and blistered to the point of bleeding, and every muscle in his back and shoulders had seized and refused to cooperate any further. A fishing boat had found him adrift late in the day in his stolen dinghy, sunburned, dehydrated and suffering badly from a combination of exposure and embarrassment. They had towed him back to shore where Arkady brought him to her father who treated his physical wounds (if not his wounded pride) and waited, to her credit, until he'd healed completely before she laughed at him for being such a fool.

Declan had no such concerns this trip. He kept up the steady pace of
dip, pull, dip, pull,
every stroke taking him closer to home.

It was dark by the time he reached the city, but that was fine by Declan. He didn't want to attract any attention, and a small dinghy would be ignored by any guards on the shore, who would assume — not unreasonably — that a lone man in a rowboat was unlikely to be a threat to national security.

Declan headed for Lebec, rather than Herino, where it was less likely there would be alert human guards on duty. Jaxyn would have replaced most of

them with Crasii, and Declan had nothing to fear from them. Even so, it turned out he had nothing about which to worry. The sudden breaking of the ice-sheet had created just as many problems — and caused just as much shock — in Glaeba as it had in Caelum. They didn't have the bodies to clean up, and they'd had a lot more warning than those near Cycrane when it shattered, but the event had drawn out every citizen in the city, it seemed, to stare at the water, which was dotted with a flotilla of small craft attempting to clear the icebergs from the waterway.

He made his way on foot through the city to Tilly's townhouse with his collar up and his head down, glad Lady Ponting lived in the better part of town where he wasn't a familiar figure. Declan was far too well known in the slums of Lebec to risk passing through them if he intended to remain hidden.

When he reached Tilly's townhouse, he waited in the shadows across the street for a time, debating his next move. He could slip around the back, he supposed, and sneak in that way or he could walk up to the front door and knock.

In the end, he decided on the latter. After all, what could they do to him?

The canine who answered his knock dropped to one knee the moment he laid eyes on Declan. 'To serve you is the reason I breathe, my lord,' he said, before Declan could utter a word.

Declan found the Crash's attitude a little unsettling. Tilly, being a high-ranking member of the Cabal and the Guardian of the Lore, firmly believed she had surrounded herself with Scards who would be immune to immortal manipulation.

'Tell your mistress I wish to see her.'

'Of course, my lord, but she has retired for the evening.'

'Tell her Declan Hawkes is waiting in her parlour. She'll get out of bed for me.'

The Crasii bowed again and hurried off to fetch his mistress. Declan walked down the hall and opened the door to Tilly's morning room. It was an odd room, full of the paraphernalia of Tilly's public persona — her Tarot cards, her easel and her awful paintings; all the things that people associated with the eccentric old widow, Lady Tilly Ponting. Declan knew her as something quite different and this room had always seemed out of character for the sharp, ruthless Guardian of the Lore with whom he was familiar. The woman who ruled the Cabal of the Tarot with an iron grip and demanded a level of loyalty from her underlings of which the Patriarch and his criminal brotherhood in the underworld of Herino would have been envious.

'Tides! It really is you!'

Declan turned to find Tilly standing in the doorway clutching a tall lamp with a glass shroud. She was wrapped in a boldly-coloured floral robe over her nightgown, her hair (which seemed to be a rather dramatic shade of yellow this week) flowing down around her shoulders.

Tilly looked old, he thought. It wasn't because she'd aged, Declan suspected, so much as he was acutely feeling the fact that he hadn't.

'Hello, Tilly.'

She moved a little closer and put the lantern on the circular table, never taking her eyes off him. 'We hadn't heard from you for so long we feared you were dead.'

'I should be so lucky.'

There was a moment of awkward silence before Tilly responded to that. She studied him closely, as if trying to determine if there was anything physically different about him. 'So, it's true then? The rumours we've been hearing?'

'Depends,' he said, 'on what the rumours are saying.'

'Don't play games with me, Declan.'

'Then don't try them on me,' he said, a little impatiently. 'You already know what I am, Tilly. You're not looking at me like that because I've suddenly turned blue. And even
if
your spies in Caelum haven't gotten a message to you by now, your Crasii just told you what I was, when he woke you up. And he
is
a Crasii, by the way, not a Scard. You'll need to be careful of things like that, now the Tide is back, if you plan to keep your affairs from the immortals.'

Tilly sank into the nearest chair, her shoulders slumped. 'How did it happen?'

He took the seat opposite, relieved she wasn't going to get hysterical on him. At least not yet. She'd probably ordered one of her Crasii off to round up all the other members of the Cabal in Lebec at the moment, while she kept him talking. They probably had plans to overwhelm him, tie him up and bury him alive out in her potting shed, or some such thing. 'Turns out I had more than an immortal great- grandmother. My father was immortal too.'

'Do you know which immortal?'

'Lukys claims he's the one responsible,' Declan told her, watching her closely to see how she'd react to his next bombshell. 'Although you know him better as Ryda Tarek.'

Tilly was silent for a very long time. Finally she shook her head with a heavy sigh. 'You know, I used to wonder about him. He always seemed to know so much more than he should. But my Scards always assured me he was human
...'

'Your Scards aren't Scards, Tilly. They're just particularly fractious Crasii. He would have ordered them to tell you anything you needed to hear. For future reference, a genuine Scard all but gags on the stench of us.'

'When did it happen?'

'During the fire that destroyed Herino Prison.'

'That's why you disappeared for so long, then?'

He nodded. That question hardly needed an answer.

'So you were already
...
like
this
...'
she said, apparently unable to bring herself to say the word
immortal,
'when you met with Aleki at Clyden's Inn and told him you were going to Torlenia to look for Arkady.'

He nodded. That too seemed self-evident.

'Did you find her?'

'Eventually.'

'You didn't see the need to save her from Jaxyn Aranville, I notice,' Tilly said, obviously annoyed with him for more than just being immortal.

'Why do you think I came back, Tilly?'

'Well, if it was to save Arkady, you're a bit late, my lad. She was out on the ice yesterday as Jaxyn's prisoner when it
...
Tides, did you have anything to do with that?'

Declan shook his head. 'It was Cayal. With some help from Kentravyon and Elyssa.'

Tilly paled in the lamplight, the possibility of Arkady being dead apparently less important than the knowledge there was a mad Tide Lord on the loose. 'Kentravyon is here?'

'Not here — he's in Caelum.'

'And are you at liberty to discuss the intentions of your new immortal friends, or did you just drop by to gloat?'

'That's not fair, Tilly.'

'Nothing in this life is, I've discovered,' she said, rubbing at her temples. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, Declan was stunned to see they were full of unshed tears. 'Tides, Declan, I've known you since you were a boy. I've watched you grow up. I've nurtured you. I even had hopes that you'd become Guardian of the Lore someday. That maybe you'd be the one who would succeed where generations of us have failed in bringing