Chained By Fear: 2 (11 page)

Invictus left his room in the tower and followed the secret ways that led to the catacombs deep beneath the palace, where he could lie on a bed of stone amid a million candles while the horrid night ran its course and finally gave way to the blessedness of morning.

Sweet morning.

Which arrived without fail.

Always. And forever.

Bringing with it, rejuvenation.

Ah
 . . .
it was good to be a god.

All knowing. All powerful.

Seventy years is a long time, even for those with the physical capacity to live far longer. And when each moment feels like a day, seven decades becomes an eternity. Laylah would have found it impossible to describe every time she sighed, or sobbed, or just stared silently at the moon, yearning for freedom. More than a dozen times during her captivity, the full moon acted strangely, as if sharing her depression, becoming partially and sometimes fully enshrouded in shadow. During these episodes, Laylah felt even worse than she did in full daylight, often collapsing into troubled sleeps. But the following night, the moon returned to normal, and the illness dissipated.

How often did she try to escape? As often as she failed. The first attempt was only five days after her arrival in Avici. She made it beyond the wildflowers, as far as the hillock, before dracools surrounded her. First she tried the death word, but the
baby dragons
were unaffected. In the desperate battle that followed, she injured two with her white flames before they were able to throw a magical net over her that pinned her to the ground, its thin gold fibers negating her powers. Urbana joined them, cackling wickedly. Lucius appeared just in time to save her. If not for the general, she might have been killed. In most ways, that would have been a blessing. But something inside her fought to survive, regardless of her despair.

The next day Lucius came to her room. She thanked him for rescuing her, and he vowed to discipline the beasts and the vampire for their rough treatment. He seemed sincere enough.

Days, weeks and months passed without harassment from Invictus. She saw him on a few occasions, but rarely face to face. Sometimes he waved. Other days he simply ignored her. Laylah traveled the grounds more freely, though a menagerie of dracools, vampires, Mogols, wolves and newborn soldiers always guarded her from afar.

Whenever she attempted another escape, she never got far. Once she made it to a densely populated area of Avici and managed to lose them for half a night, running through alleys and crouching in doorways. But Urbana and her fiends eventually found her, and the vampire got close enough to throw a sparkly powder in Laylah’s face. When Laylah woke the next morning, she was back in her room, covered with scratches and bite marks. Lucius saw the wounds and became enraged, summoning Urbana and screaming at her for what seemed like forever. The vampire stood silently during the tongue lashing and afterward slinked away like a whipped dog. Lucius’ authority impressed Laylah.

Months stretched into years, and Avici grew before her eyes, bloating like a gourmand’s stomach. Thousands of newborns came from the east, traveling in huge caravans on the Golden Road. Rumors of wealth and opportunity lured townsfolk from up and down the length of the Ogha River into the city. And a seedier crew also arrived: pirates from Duccarita, Warlish witches from Kamupadana, Pabbajja from the fringes of Java and wild men from Kolankold. The worst, in Laylah’s eyes, were the wolves and Mogols from Mahaggata, long the hated enemies of the Ropakans.

Laylah watched the army grow from less than twenty thousand to more than two hundred thousand, while the civilian population swelled to half a million. Every day, it seemed that a new manse, temple, or tavern was constructed, and the city began to sprawl in all directions, even spilling over to the west side of the Ogha River, where there was plenty of open land for further expansion. But the valley always was off-limits to development.

Her brother left her alone for ten years. The memory of her parents’ murders faded ever so slowly, and she blamed Vedana more than Invictus for the slaughter of the Ropakans, who felt less like her people and more like a dream. Even the memory of the rape lost its acuity. Each day that Invictus stayed away, her belief grew that he intended no further harm.

Some times were not unpleasant. As long as she didn’t try to run, she was fed, clothed and bathed in luxurious fashion. Even better, she and Bhacca became true friends. The newborn felt like a sister and often accompanied her on her middle-of-the-night wanderings in the valley. Laylah also conversed frequently with Lucius, who bragged incessantly about the growing might of his army. Enemies respected strength, he said over and over again.

Near the end of her first decade of captivity, Laylah was stunned to learn that Invictus had chosen another queen. Her name was Asamāna, and she was a countess of high bearing from a wealthy Senasanan family. Laylah attended a banquet during which Invictus put on a touching show of adoration for his bride-to-be. Could it be that his incestuous obsession was over? The sorcerer spoke to Laylah several times during the banquet—in a respectful, brotherly tone. Asamāna smiled and bowed, but said little. Laylah found the vacant look in her eyes disquietingly familiar.

More than ten thousand attended the royal wedding, which was held on the grounds of the palace. The wealthiest of Avici were invited, along with a score of Senasanans. When it was time to present the ring, a golden dragon appeared in the sky and landed near the wedding party. The wondrous female bent down her long neck and dropped the ring from her mouth into Asamāna’s trembling hand. Shouting and applause followed. This impressed even Laylah.

Invictus’ first wedding present to his new bride was an announcement that construction would soon begin on a tower that would dwarf any structure on Triken. Uccheda—as it would be called—would reach to the clouds and be as magnificent as the new queen.

Lucius raved to Laylah about Asamāna. “You and she will become wonderful friends,” he said repeatedly.

Just a week after the wedding, Asamāna tapped on Laylah’s door, and she invited the new queen into her bedchamber. The woman was almost as beautiful as a Warlish witch, but she seemed to lack confidence, stuttering when she spoke.

“I would l-l-like to discuss some things with you. My king has great p-p-plans for Avici, but there is something he needs from you that he can’t get from m-m-me.”

“What could he possibly need from me? The two of you seem so happy.”

“We
are
happy. B-b-but
 . . .
B-b-but
 . . .
” Asamāna burst into tears.

Laylah put an arm around her slim shoulders. “How old are you, child?”

“Eighteen.”

“You’re ten years younger than me,” Laylah said, trying to calm her with mundane conversation.

Asamāna’s lips quivered, but she seemed determined to say what she had come to say. “He w-w-wants a
son
! But I can’t give him one. Y-y-you can. If you’ll just let him be with you, he won’t be m-m-mad. He’ll leave us both alone. He won’t hurt us
 . . .
h-h-hurt
me
.”

“Is that the reason you’ve come here?” Laylah said, suddenly angry. “To beg me to sleep with your husband? Tell the perverted bastard I’d rather
die
. And tell General Lucius that I have seen through his facade.”

Asamāna grimaced. “Then you
will
die! All of us will d-d-die. You don’t understand what
 . . .
he
is.
You d-d-don’t understand what
 . . .
he
 . . .
does.
”

The next day, Laylah heard tragic news. The queen had fallen down the stairs leading to her bedchamber and had broken her neck. A few hundred attended a private funeral, where there was a conspicuous lack of a body.

When Lucius came to her room, Laylah charged at him and pounded on his chest. “How
dare
you! This ridiculous marriage was just another ploy to trick me into trusting my brother, and you were part of it, pretending to be my friend. I was starting to like you. Now I
hate
you!”

The waiting game began again.
In the months that followed, Laylah attempted several more escapes, each forcibly thwarted. During one battle she managed to injure Urbana, torching the vampire’s face. This put Laylah in a pleasant mood for several days afterward.

Though she had rejected Lucius, Laylah didn’t lose faith in Bhacca. They remained friends and continued to spend time together. One evening, Bhacca came to her red-faced and animated, announcing she had been promoted from chambermaid to mistress of the robes, replacing Urbana, who had been given other duties. Bizarrely, this excited Laylah.

Once again, a tedious string of years blunted Laylah’s outrage. Eventually they permitted her to wander as far as a league from the palace, though dracools circled in the skies, and vampires and Mogols kept track of her from the ground. Meanwhile, Invictus ignored her completely, not even acknowledging her presence. And whenever she saw Lucius, the general bowed his head, as if ashamed. Laylah started to feel sorry for him. Though he had betrayed her, she respected him for not trying to deny it. And in her heart, she didn’t believe he was evil. Lucius was her brother’s pawn, but who in Avici wasn’t? Even the most powerful among them were subservient.

Despite Asamāna’s death, the construction of Uccheda began on schedule. Laylah watched it rise from her window in the palace, disquieting in its magnitude. Invictus brought in scientists, architects, masons, carpenters and quarrymen. Thousands of slaves worked under the whip. Even then, it took more than twenty years to complete the tower, which ended up being more than six hundred cubits tall. But more impressive than its height was its decadence. The exterior was coated with gold.

Laylah was fifty years old when she was moved from the palace to Uccheda. The tower—now the largest edifice in all of Triken—became one more negative in her life. In comparison, the much-smaller palace seemed charming and comfortable. Her new bedchamber stood more than five hundred cubits above the floor of the valley, and though metal transport cages within the tower rode up and down on cables, it still took her an uncomfortably long time to travel from her room to the ground. She found herself spending more and more time sleeping during the day and sitting by her window at night, gazing at the moon and stars. Except for Bhacca’s frequent visits, the comforting glow of the moon was the only thing that kept her sane. Otherwise, she became lazy and listless. She even lost the desire to escape.

One night, approximately forty years into her captivity, Laylah worked up the energy to leave the tower and walk the grounds. Urbana, her damaged face long since healed by sorcery, joined the inevitable collection of tag-along guards. Before exiting the tower through the soundless doors that magically appeared out of the wall, Laylah caught sight of her reflection in a silver mirror. Though she now was almost sixty years old, her physical appearance had changed little since she had first arrived, other than a slight tinge of maturity. Her demon blood kept her perpetually young. But Laylah took little pleasure in it.

On this night the moon was swollen, which probably explained her vivacity. She wandered to the top of the hillock and lay down amid fragrant flowers. The full moon seemed oh so close; she felt as if she could reach out and touch its mottled surface with her fingertips.

The blaring of horns and beating of drums broke Laylah’s reverie. A brigade of Avician soldiers marched toward the city along the Golden Road. Dracools circled overhead. One of the
baby dragons
broke from formation and hurtled toward the tower, landing on its roof and disappearing from view. Soon afterward, it reappeared and flew back to meet the soldiers. Laylah realized that it carried Invictus, who was making a rare appearance in the darkness. Whatever was happening had to be important.

She rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin in her hands, watching the proceedings with cautious curiosity. As the caravan grew closer, she focused her attention on a dozen oxen hauling a large cart. An enormous creature, chained at the neck, wrist and ankles, stood in the bed of the cart. Even from a distance she could see the color of its eyes.

Laylah felt a surge of pity for the beast, and she raced down the hill and crouched behind some bushes near the road. Urbana and the guards approached within fifty paces of her, suspicious of her intentions. But when they saw Laylah stop, they stopped too.

The brigade came to a halt. Feeling bold, she stood up and strode to the edge of the road. Laylah wanted to see this creature up close, whether Invictus liked it or not. Warily she watched her brother approach the wagon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice hissed from behind her. “You’ve no business here.”

“Oh, shut up, Urbana, or I’ll burn your face again. I’m trying to see what’s happening. Do you
mind
?”

“You little bitch. If it weren’t for your brother, I’d tear a chunk out of your throat.”

Laylah barely heard the threat. Instead, she focused on the giant, which appeared to be at least ten cubits tall, even larger than a Kojin. But while the ogresses were hideous, this creature was beautiful. A white mane extended from the top of his head down the center of his broad back, and his face exuded gentleness despite an imposing pair of fangs that protruded over his lower lip. For a moment the giant saw her—and Laylah was convinced he smiled. But the smile was poignant, as if he recognized that she too was a prisoner.

“What is your name?” she heard Invictus say to the creature.