The Tears of Elios (25 page)

“The thieves escaped with the artifact through a gate under the city. The good news is that one of them was captured, and we've discovered where the Resistance camp is at last. It's amazing what you can glean from a little torture.” Anilayus grinned as he stabbed the meat with his fork.

Ranealya’s pulse hammered in her ears. Galen needed to know his position had been compromised, but something held her prisoner in the room. She finally had a chance to observe Anilayus, and she was going to snatch the opportunity while she could.

He had the same coloring as his brother—dark brown hair, dark eyes, olive skin—but unlike Aemil, there was no softness to him. His hair and beard were short and neatly trimmed. Sucking hollows formed under his eyes, and no warmth radiated from his smile. “I hope your recruitment mission was successful, Aemil.”

The prince moved the food around on his plate, eyes downcast. “There were a fair number of young men who agreed to join the army.”

Anilayus took a long drink from his goblet. In contrast to his guests, his appetite wasn’t hindered. “Good. We will need every man we can get if we are to crush the Resistance. Once they are wiped out, there will be no stopping the expansion of the Kingdom. Perhaps I shall conquer Highmounte next. Generations will look back on my accomplishments and remember my power.” His gaze slid to Gregor. “I could use another Master on my side.”

She tensed, wondering if he would fold under the King’s pressure.

Gregor looked up from his plate and cleared his throat. “You know my skills lie in research, not combat.”

“I’m sure you've uncovered some sort of ritual I can use to my advantage.”

Gregor shook his head and lowered his eyes. “Not particularly.”

Anilayus drummed his fingers around the golden goblet and watched Gregor with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t a very convincing liar, and the King knew it. “You used to delight in sharing your latest discoveries with me. Perhaps your new assistant has become a distraction.”

Gregor dropped his fork. The clang echoed off the walls. He glared at Aemil. “She's helping me translate scrolls.”

“And are you sure she is trustworthy? You always had a soft spot in your heart for non-humans.”

“She's human, Anilayus,” Aemil interceded. “And quite beautiful, too.”

“I would like to meet her, Gregor. Let me send for her.”

Gregor’s face hardened. “She's asleep. Besides, she's very shy around strangers, especially nobility.”

He was trying to protect her, and her respect for him grew as she continued to watch from the corner.

“If she is a loyal subject, then she should be overjoyed to meet her King.” He snapped his fingers, and a servant appeared from the other room. “Go fetch Lord Gregor’s assistant.” The servant bowed and spun around on his heels, but only made it a few feet away from the King before a loud bang filled the room.

The heavy wooden doors opened as if they were made of paper, outlining a dark hooded figure in the doorway. The servant began to shake and cringed as the figure passed him. It stopped and knelt in front of the King.

Ranealya burrowed deeper into the shadows.

“Sire,” the Azekborn said. Its voice was hardly more than a whisper, but it sent chills down her spine. “There is a shape-shifter in the castle. I can smell it.”

Ranealya ran for the doors she had squeezed under. She couldn’t afford to be caught, not now. At least now she knew how the Azekborn had always been able to find her, even in her best disguises.

Everyone at the table appeared shocked by the announcement—everyone except Anilayus. “Lock the castle down!” he shouted. “No one leaves the grounds until it is found.” He stood and waited for the Azekborn to rise. “Gather the others and find it. And when you do, bring it to me.”

The hooded figure bowed, never revealing its face, and glided out of the room with unnatural speed.

Gregor stood and rushed to the door. “I need to make sure Ranealya is safe.”

Ranealya silently cursed. She had to get back to her room before he did. She shifted back into a pigeon and flew as fast as her wings could carry her. She had just enough time to resume her human disguise and don her dress before Gregor began calling her name from the other side of the door.

The lock gave her the few seconds she needed to lace her dress up. A bright blue flash appeared to the keyhole, and the door flung open.

“Gregor!” she cried as she ran to him. She was shivering, she realized, and snuggled closer to him. She needed to act like a damsel in distress if she was to fool the King. “Hold me.”

Gregor responded by wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. He was whispering something to her in a soothing voice, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. Too many other things filled her mind.

Footsteps sounded behind Gregor, and she gathered enough courage to peek around him. She buried her face in his chest as soon as she saw Anilayus and several of his guards standing there. “This must be your assistant, Gregor.”

Gregor lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, this is Ranealya.”

“Ranealya? What an odd name. Almost sounds Elvish.” He moved closer to her and seized her chin so he could see her face. Her fingers itched to rip this face off, but she forced herself to remain calm and continue with this charade. He studied her face through narrowed eyes. After almost a minute of his scrutiny, he relaxed and released her chin. “What beautiful blue eyes you have, Ranealya.”

Ranealya hid her face as soon as she could. She was still shaking. It took every ounce of strength to act human, especially around the man who wished to exterminate her entire race. Only the fear of Gregor’s reaction kept her from shifting into something that would rip the King’s throat out.

“Is there a reason why she's acting this way?” he asked Gregor.

“She's terrified of shape-shifters. No doubt, she heard the alarm issued.”

“Shape-shifters are rarely seen. Why should she be afraid of them?”

She resisted the urge to reply by asking the King why he was so terrified of them to the point he summoned the Azekborn to hunt them. “I think one of them attacked me. I've never seen a wolf that size before.”

Anilayus seemed satisfied with her answer and backed away.

A black robed figure approached from the dark hallway. “Sire, we lost the scent.”

“Imbeciles!” He swung his arm, and although he never struck it, the Azekborn flew backwards and slid a few feet after it hit the ground. It jumped to its feet with inhuman agility and disappeared.

Ranealya turned her head away. Her thoughts were becoming more and more vicious, and she didn’t want them on display for the King to read.

“Gregor, I will leave you to protect your assistant while I go hunting for the shape-shifter. Goodnight, Ranealya.” The sinister note in his voice increased her shivering, and she huddled closer to Gregor until the door closed behind the King.

As soon as they were alone, Gregor grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. “Were you doing what I thought you were doing?”

She glanced at the door and nodded her head. She didn’t want to be overheard.

“Why do you insist on making things worse for yourself? You could have been caught or killed.”

“But I wasn't.”

“Why did you run into my arms then? Did you think I would protect you? If Anilayus had even remotely thought you were a shape-shifter, I doubt I could’ve done much to help you.”

“The King is going to believe what he wants to believe.” She pulled herself away from his grasp and sat on the bed. “As for running into your arms, I needed you to cover me with your scent. After all, the Azekborn claimed he could smell the shape-shifter.”

Gregor's hazel eyes flashed with anger behind his glasses. “One of these days, you’re going learn not to take advantage of people. I’ll protect you tonight, but next time, I won’t be so generous.” He slammed the door behind him, and a bright blue glow surrounded the room. The window behind her closed. Then she heard his boots pounding against the stone floor as he stomped away.

Ranealya tried to open the door, but it was sealed shut. She ran into the same problem when she tried the window. He had imprisoned her in this room with magic, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape until he released her. On the other hand, no one could enter her room, and she wondered if it would keep the Azekborn from detecting her scent. She crouched on the bed and watched the door, ready to spring if someone other than Gregor entered.

CHAPTER 17

Galen's dreams troubled him. He was appalled that he would even imagine such things. He would never try to force himself on Kira. His head pounded when he opened his eyes, though, and he discovered a tender bump when he rubbed the back of his head. The room was empty except for him.

Perhaps there may have been more to the dream than he originally considered.

“Galen High-Elf,” a nasally voice said from the doorway. He turned and saw a faerie standing there. “The Queen desires another audience with you.”

He rubbed his eyes and got to his feet. His whole body ached. He wondered if today would be any different than last night. Mab had stubbornly refused to give them the Tear of Elios she had, no matter how persuasive he’d tried to be. “What is the nature of this audience?”

The faerie shrugged. “I wasn’t told what she wanted to talk to you about, only that she wanted to see you immediately.” The faerie flew behind him and pushed him out the door. “It would be best if we do not keep Queen Mab waiting.”

Galen stumbled forward in the direction of the clearing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Where's Kira?”

The faerie turned so he was flying backwards to answer him. “The little human? She’s still in the forest.” The faerie laughed and fluttered away.

Mab was lounging on her throne when he arrived, her hand resting on a crystal orb beside her. Her smile grew tight as she stroked the Tear of Elios with her spidery green fingers. “Good morning, Galen. Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected, Your Majesty.” He ran his hand over the bump on his head once more.
How did I get it?

She focused her gaze on the orb. “Do you still want this?”

“As I told you last night, we need it for the ritual to defeat Anilayus.”

“And you were hoping I would give it to you free of charge.” She lifted the orb into her hands and flew towards him. “Nothing in life is free, Galen. You know that.”

“You would be guaranteed protection from the Elgeans.”

“I would like to see them try and invade Sylvania.”

Galen crossed his arms. “The humans may have a difficult time, but the drae that serve Anilayus would have no trouble blinking into your court and destroying you and your people.”

“Drae?” Her violet eyes widened. “I thought all the drae had been banished.”

“He found a way to summon them and then infused them with demonic powers. The Azekborn carry out his every whim.”

“Hmm. That complicates things.” She stared into the orb, her lips pursed, and then back at Galen. “And you truly believe your plan will work?”

“If we have the right combination of orbs and casters, yes.”

Mab caressed the orb one more time, and an evil smile curled up from her mouth. “Very well. I will lend it to you.”

Galen reached for it. “You're lending it to me free of charge?”

She released it to him and laughed. “I told you nothing in life is free.”

An icy tingle slithered across the back of his neck. “What price are you expecting me to pay in exchange for this?”

“Oh, you've already paid the price for it, Galen, much to my amusement.”

The uneasiness grew stronger. He searched his mind to discover what she was referring to, but he drew a blank. It was unusual for him to forget things. “And what price was that?”

“You'll see.” Mab returned to her throne, the smile still present. “You’d better leave now before it gets too late.”

“I will as soon as I find Kira.”

Her fingers wrapped around the arms of her throne. “What a silly little girl she is. She has no idea what she wants.”

A sickening feeling rolled in the pit of his stomach. “Mab, if you hurt one hair on her head—”

“
I’ve
done nothing to her,” she replied. “You can find her under an oak tree along the path to your horse.

Galen bowed and stowed the orb away. He didn’t want to press his luck with Mab, and he was anxious to find Kira. From the tone in the faerie queen’s voice, he knew something had happened to her. No doubt another faerie trick. He hurried along the trail, back to the region of Sylvania where the vegetation grew thick.

He found Kira asleep under an oak tree, just as Mab had told him. She was curled up into a small ball, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. As he leaned over to awaken her, he saw that the faeries had woven flowers into her hair while she slept, making her sweet fragility that much more pronounced. He rubbed her shoulder. “Kira, time to wake up.”

Her eyes appeared glazed for a moment before growing wide once her vision cleared. She bolted up and backed away from him.

The last time he had seen that look of terror in her eyes was when she first saw the horse she was supposed to ride. But now, her fears were directed to him. “Kira, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“What happened?”

She stood and brushed the leaves off her cloak, keeping a safe distance between them. She turned away and jogged down the trail. “Let’s go, Galen. I can’t wait to leave this horrible place.”

What have I done to elicit this response from her?
Then he remembered that Mab said he had already paid her for the orb, and his blood ran cold.

Kira said nothing as they travelled to the edge of Sylvania and mounted his horse. Her body remained stiff instead of leaning against him like she normally did, and he missed her warmth.

As they rode, he began to remember the events of the prior night in vivid detail. He had left the court, frustrated that he couldn’t convince Mab to give him the orb. Fairlin had led him back to the tree where Kira was. Then there had been a flash of purple, and a burning desire for her had filled him. He remembered kissing her, pushing her back on the bed, the feeling of her body under his, the tasting her skin. His arousal grew as he remembered it, but there was something wrong about it all.