Chained By Fear: 2 (6 page)

“He believes I’m his friend,” Chal said. “I’ve shown him where to find slavessss. I’ve lured creatures to Avici to join his army. We’re close, Invictus and I. If he had discovered thissss hiding place, I would know it.”

“You know only what he wishes you to know,” Vedana said. “You’re close because he allows you to be.
Fool
! He is beyond you. If he doesn’t yet recognize you as a traitor, it’s because you’re too small in his estimation to be of much concern.”

Then the demon glared at the witch distrustfully, with eyes that glowed like fire. “I warn you. Do not betray me! I’m sure it has crossed your mind. But my magic created you. If I perish, so will you—and all of your sisters.”

Chal backed away, dropped to her knees and covered her face. Laylah could see only the top of the woman’s head. The witch’s auburn hair curled and turned gray, and black smoke oozed from the pores of her skin, saturating the cavern with a terrible stench. When Chal rose to her feet, a devil stood where an angel had been.

Laylah recoiled.

“Oh, don’t look so disgussssted,” the hideous version of Chal said. “A lady can’t always be at her best.” Then she turned to Vedana. “I’ll never betray you, mistress. You gave me the giftssss of long life and powerful magic. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.”

Vedana started to respond, but a shuffling sound near the mouth of the passageway interrupted her. A second witch—as hideously ugly as Chal had just become—rushed into the cavern.

“Mistress! Mistress!” the witch said to Vedana. “Invictus approaches. He’s alone except for a pair of dracoolssss, but the Mogols and wolves dare not confront him. His body glowssss like the sun. The trees bow before him. Even the stones fear him. What are we to do?”

Vedana hissed. In response, Chal and the other witch backed toward the exit. It wasn’t safe to be near the mother of all demons when she was in a foul mood.

Vedana sniffed the air. “Flee, you fools!” the demon wailed. “Don’t let him see you.”

Chal and the second witch scrambled into the passageway. Laylah watched them disappear, and her body began to shake uncontrollably. Then she turned to the demon, who seemed amused by Laylah’s terror.

“Do
I
make you tremble? Wait until you see what
he
makes you do. But there’s one final way I can thwart him.”

With the agility of a spider, the demon pounced onto the stone bed and crouched over Laylah. Vedana growled, exposing a long black tongue. Then she placed her gnarled hands on Laylah’s stomach and spoke strange-sounding words.

Laylah was sickened. She fought against the restraints until her wrists and ankles bled. She screamed until her throat burned. But the demon’s hands continued to burn the tender flesh of her abdomen. It was a fouler torture than the talisman.

Then the revulsion became too great, and Laylah’s mind ran like a coward toward the comfort of unconsciousness.

When she woke, Vedana was gone.

As Vedana began her incantation, her dark essence began to work its magic. From the Realm of the Undead, she called an extra-special
efrit
that was larger and stronger than any other, giving it a silent command to follow until the end of its existence: Do nothing to harm Laylah as long as her sexual relations did not create emotional suffering. Then she deposited the
efrit
with its instrictions into her granddaughter’s womb, where it would nestle, harmlessly, for the rest of Laylah’s life—as long as Laylah only made love with mates of her choosing. But if any of her encounters appeared to be forced, the
efrit
would awaken and devour her womb.

Pregnancy by rape would be impossible. Only a desirable seduction would allow Laylah to conceive a child.

Vedana did not have the strength to defeat Invictus in open battle, but neither was she helpless. When she fled from the cave, her goal had been accomplished. Afterward she cackled in her lair. Invictus would be enraged, but his powers over her remained limited. The sorcerer ruled the Realm of Life, but the mother of all demons still reigned among the undead. And she was so good at hiding.

Laylah would remember little of what occurred in the chamber.

But Invictus would be certain to find out. His perverted lust would guarantee it.

Vedana had earned a measure of revenge. And the grandson would be helpless to undo it. If he attempted to remove the
efrit
, it would chew apart Laylah’s insides.

In this way, Vedana gained control over the time and place that Invictus would be able to impregnate her granddaughter, for only she had the magic to disarm the
efrit
without harming Laylah.

Control
 . . .
oh, how she loved to be in control.

Vedana knew better than anyone or anything that timing was everything.

Laylah had first met Invictus when she was five years old. He’d murdered their parents when she was ten. Eight years after that, she was about to meet him again.

She woke from the demon’s spell with a squeal, but when she tried to rise, she found herself still shackled to the stone bed in the dank chamber. Vedana, however, was gone, and the dreadful talisman with her.

Without the evil magic to thwart her, Laylah was able to free herself. She folded her fingers over the palms of her hands and pressed them against the iron cuffs, bathing them with white fire. The cuffs superheated, melted and disintegrated. Then she sat up and reached for the ones around her ankles.

But something in the passageway caused her to freeze.

At first she saw just a faint yellow glow far back in the tunnel, but she watched with dread as it grew progressively brighter. And hotter. A portion of her mind screamed at her paralysis.
Free yourself! Run! Anywhere.
But a morbid fascination held her in place. Her brother was coming. And she could do nothing.

Laylah’s worst fears took hold. Though she had tried for eight years to erase the memory of that horrid day, it had continued to torment her mercilessly. Every lurid detail remained embedded in her recollections. She sat on the stone bed and replayed the horror in her mind. When she thought of Invictus, a terrible cramp seized her abdomen. She cried out, held her stomach and sobbed. How could she bear to look at his face again?

The glow grew painfully bright, turning the oily water on the chamber’s ceiling to steam. A spherical blob of energy emerged from the passageway and hovered nearby, resembling a miniature sun. She cowered before it.

Slowly the radiance dimmed, and a human body formed in its place.

Yellow hair. Brown eyes. Boyish face.

“Hello, Laylah,” Invictus said. “It’s been a long time. I’ve missed you.”

“Nooooo,” she whimpered. “Please, leave me
 . . .
alone.”

Invictus smiled. “Do you believe I intend to hurt you?” he said cheerfully. “You’re my little sister. I love you.”

“You have
 . . .
already
 . . .
hurt me. You have
 . . .
ruined me.”

Invictus sighed. “What I did wasn’t very nice. Is that what you want to hear? But time heals all. Now both of us are older and wiser. And you’ve become quite beautiful.”

Laylah covered her naked breasts with her arms. His words awoke a long-suppressed rage. When she screamed at him, her voice echoed in the chamber. “What you did wasn’t
very nice
? I suppose, in your mind, it was our parents’ fault!”

Rather than become angry, Invictus chuckled. “No, it wasn’t their fault. At least, not in the way you mean. But they were expendable. You and I are all that matter. The Sun God and the Moon Goddess, brother and sister, king and queen. Don’t you understand?
Anyone
who stands against us—or between us—will perish. We are beyond reprisal.”

“You keep saying
us.
But there is no
us
. I despise you!”

Without warning, she rose to her knees and extended her arms, her thirst for revenge fueling her attack. White power spurted from her fingertips, her eyes and her mouth. It blasted upon him like an inferno.

For what felt like a very long time she bathed him in white flame, howling as she assailed him. Years of accumulated wrath rained down on Invictus’ body. The chamber became as hot as an oven. He stood there, neither resisting nor fleeing.

When Laylah finally expended her strength, she fell forward. Her fire had consumed the cuffs that restrained her ankles and liquefied a portion of the stone at her feet, filling the chamber with smoke. She waited for it to dissipate, expecting to see Invictus’ charred bones littering the cavern floor.

But when the smoke cleared, her brother remained standing, unharmed. Even the golden robes he wore had not been damaged. He smiled at her, full of amusement rather than anger.

“Laylah, I’m so
proud
of you. Few beings on Triken are capable of exerting such force, and you did it all by yourself without the benefit of training or any kind of weapon other than your own beautiful body. You’re a courageous girl with great potential. I have so much to teach you. One day, you will find a way to comprehend me, to forgive me, to love me—as deeply as I love you.”

“Never
 . . .
never
!”

“Darling sister.
Never
is a very long time. And starting now, you and I have all the time in the world.”

The sorcerer approached her and touched the top of her head with the palm of his right hand. A warm yellow light enveloped her flesh, causing her to collapse into a state of catatonia—but not so deep that she wasn’t aware when a pair of dracools entered the room, wrapped her in golden blankets and carried her from the chamber. And not so deep that she wasn’t aware when the dracools leapt off the mountaintop with her strapped to one of their backs.

Upon awakening, the first thing Laylah noticed was the pervasive aroma of incense. She opened her eyes and turned her head from side to side, coming to realize she was lying on her back on a wide bed. Her hair had been washed and combed, and it was strewn delicately on each side of a pillow. A sleeveless samite robe covered her otherwise naked body. Silk sheets caressed her bare arms.

Laylah sat up and gasped. A dozen yellow-haired attendants—all females—dropped to their knees in reaction to her sudden movement. Then they pressed their noses against the floor. They wore long, white tunics embroidered with golden suns. When they finished their bow and looked up, Laylah noticed their matching brown eyes.

She was in a large room with just one window and one door. But it was opulently decorated. Gold and ivory inlays wove through the oaken furniture. A polished silver mirror perched enticingly on a dressing table. A marble bath built into the cement floor appeared well-equipped with soaps, perfumes and towels.

As if answering a silent summons, one of the attendants scampered from the room. As she departed, another woman entered whose appearance was in stark contrast to the others, her hair and eyes black. Laylah could not guess her age.

“Good morning, young princess,” the woman said. “My name is Urbana, mistress of the robes, and I am under your command. These others are the ladies of the bedchamber. They’re under
my
command and are not worthy of speaking directly to you. I hope our accommodations meet with your approval. I saw to it that you were bathed and adorned in fine robes. Doesn’t she look magnificent, everyone?”

“Yes!” the others chanted in unison.

Through the window, Laylah saw a cloudless sky.

“Where am I?” she said to Urbana.

“You’re in the palace of King Invictus, in the Golden City of Avici,” the mistress of the robes said.

Palace? King Invictus?
Golden City
of Avici?

Laylah slid off the bed and walked to the window. Urbana followed alongside, as if Laylah were a delicate thing requiring assistance. Laylah peered out the arched window and saw that she was high above the ground in some kind of tower built into a corner of the palace. She recognized the valley that had once contained her quiet village and could even see the sycamore tree with her precious swing only a few hundred paces away. The valley was green and untouched. But the dead volcano that once held a few scattered huts now bore buildings, temples and multi-storied manses. Where a few once roamed, thousands now bustled in the streets.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” said a deep voice from behind.

“Yes!” the attendants chanted.

“And it’s only the beginning,” the voice said. “The best is yet to come.”

“YES!”

Laylah whirled around. Her brother stood in the center of the room, wearing a gold tunic over a white doublet. A strange heat emanated from his eyes. Laylah felt as if she were standing too close to a fire, but when she tried to back away, she banged into the wall behind her.

“Forgive my intrusion, but your door was ajar, and I deigned to enter without an invitation,” Invictus said. “I see you’re enjoying the view. I’ve accomplished much in the eight years since you and I were last together, wouldn’t you agree?”

Laylah’s lips trembled. “You’ve
 . . .
accomplished
nothing.
You’ve
 . . .
ruined
everything.
”

Her audacity obviously shocked the attendants, who skittered backward like a swarm of spiders. Urbana hissed. But Laylah seemed incapable of angering Invictus. Rather than lash out at her, he laughed.

“Little one, can it be you are
still
angry with me? Oh well, it won’t last forever. Once you get to know me—
really
get to know me—you will comprehend my motives and behaviors. In the meantime, I give you free rein to explore your new home. If you like, you can even visit the tree. I’ve left the swing in place, just for you. No one else is allowed to use it, under penalty of death.” He laughed again. “By the way, don’t be late for the banquet. We’re preparing a feast in your honor. There are people I’d like you to meet. I have
many
friends.”

Then Invictus strode through the doorway and vanished. After he was gone, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. The attendants resumed their duties. Laylah threw herself onto the bed.

“Don’t despair, young princess,” Urbana said. “You’re safe now. King Invictus will protect you.”

Laylah glared at Urbana. “Did you say
protect
me? He has destroyed everything—my family, my friends, my people.
Protect
me?”

“Wise kings sometimes make unpopular decisions,” said Urbana, her black eyes glistening. “When you get to know your brother better, you will understand what drives him. He knows what is best for all.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand. My brother is evil. I despise him.”

“It seems that way now, young princess. But you will learn otherwise. I can sense you are hungry; it is affecting your mood. When you’ve finished eating, I will give you a tour of the palace and valley, and then you can have a bath and a nice nap. Afterward, I will comb your hair and pick out a gown for tonight’s festivities. You’re an honored guest—sister to the king.”

“Why should I trust anything that comes from your mouth? You say you’re under my command. Prove it.”

“How so?”

“I command you to answer me. Are you in league with my brother willingly—or as his slave?”

Urbana shook her head, as if amused by such naivety. “I’m neither willing nor enslaved. I’m a disciple—as are all who dwell in Avici. King Invictus is a god, not a man. Compared to him, we are insignificant. But he loves us, nonetheless. What choice is there but to follow him?”

“You’re mad. Leave me alone. Get out of here.”

“As you command, young princess.”

But before Urbana and the other attendants left the room, one of the girls brought in a tray containing roasted chicken, baked apples, creamed corn, white cheese and crispy wafers. There also was a ewer of spiced wine. She set it all on a table near the window, then backed out of the room with the others, closing the door gently behind her.

Laylah was blessedly alone.

Laylah ran to the window. She was far too high to attempt a jump, and the walls of the tower were faced with polished ashlars that were probably too slippery to descend. Frantically she explored the room, looking for any kind of weapon that might aid in her escape, but she found nothing but a wooden hairbrush.

She went to the door and gently pulled on its handle to test if it was locked. The door swung open, and she peered into the hall. The ladies of the bedchamber knelt on a plush rug on the cement floor. Urbana sat in a padded chair against the far wall.

“Is there anything we can do for you, young princess?” the mistress of the robes said. “Is the food to your liking? What other comforts might we provide?”

Laylah slammed the door, retreated to the center of the room, and buried her face in her hands.

For the first time, she sobbed.

After what felt like a
very long time, Laylah found the strength to stop crying. Then she lay on the bed, lost in her thoughts. How long had it been since Vedana had approached her in the village? And how much time had passed since Invictus had found her in the cave? She remembered being strapped to the back of a black mountain wolf some time in between. But what stood out most was the terrible pain of the talisman that had clung to her throat. Laylah still could hear the demon’s cackles through the cacophony of her own wails.

Remembering the slaughter of her people reduced her to another fit of sobbing. How could she continue to live after experiencing such horror? Everyone she had ever loved was dead
 . . .
and now she was the prisoner of a madman. This time it took even longer to regain control of her emotions.

Despite the enormity of her sorrow, Laylah found herself drawn to the tray of food. She had no idea how long it had been since she had eaten. The chicken meat had cooled to room temperature, but it still smelled delicious. As a little girl, she had adored baked apples and creamed corn. And she had eaten barrels of white cheese. How did Invictus know she favored these foods? Even then, he must have been watching her closely. The thought made her shiver.

But her hunger overcame her despair. A spoon was her only utensil, but the fowl had been cut into bite-sized pieces that she was able to pick up with her fingers, and the apples and corn were wonderful. She ate all the cheese and wafers and drank the entire ewer of wine. The moment after her last sip, she heard a tapping at her door.

Laylah stared at the entryway, not saying a word, waiting to see if the visitor would enter uninvited. But no one did. She counted thirty breaths before hearing another series of taps, this time more forceful.

Laylah sighed. “Come in. It’s not like I can do anything to stop you.”

The door opened, and Urbana peered into the room.

“You’ll be pleased to learn that, starting now, no one will be permitted to enter your room without your permission,” the mistress of the robes said. “This is by order of King Invictus. I’ll wait outside your door until my services are needed.”

“Come in,” Laylah said. “I give you
permission
. Besides, I have more questions.”

Laylah’s submission seemed to please Urbana the way a nanny is pleased when a wayward child finally chooses to behave.

“Certainly. But may I call one of my chambermaids to remove the tray?”

“Too good to do it yourself?”

“It is not my position to clear away the remains of a meal. But if you order it, I will do so.”

“Makes no difference to me.”

“Thank you, young princess,” Urbana said, but there was a chill in her voice.

The mistress of the robes clapped her hands. A girl darted in and removed the tray. In its place she left a clay bowl containing a steaming towel. Laylah wiped her hands and mouth. As soon as Laylah was finished, another maid raced in and removed the bowl.

Laylah was unaccustomed to luxuries or preferential treatment. Her life in Avici had been unadorned, her parents poor but comfortable. Her time with the Ropakans had been even simpler. Peace and joy had brought her pleasure, not fancy clothes or accommodations.

Urbana walked close to Laylah and examined her face. “Your eyes are bloodshot, and the rouge I applied to your cheeks is smeared. I have medicine to whiten your eyes and paints for your face and lips. Will you allow me to enhance your beauty?”

“Maybe another time. For now I have more questions.”

“All of which I’ll be pleased to answer. Would you care to walk while we converse? We can go outside and enjoy the fresh air. We can even visit your swing, if you like. King Invictus has told me how much you enjoyed it when you were a child.”

Laylah’s mind raced. Was it possible they would allow her to walk freely outside of her room? Outside of the palace? If so, how closely would she be watched? Perhaps she could find a way to escape. At least she could explore her options. Remaining shut away in the room and feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere.

“I’ll need a veil to protect my face from the sun.”

The request seemed to please Urbana. When it came to clothing, the mistress of the robes appeared securely in her element. “Yes, young princess. Your closet is full of veils, hats and cauls. And gowns designed to fit your lovely figure, little one.”

Laylah cringed. “Please don’t call me that.
Never
call me that.”

“After tonight, I will call you queen,” Urbana said. “As will all who dwell in Avici.”

“
Queen
would be even worse than
little one.
”

“The great cannot deny greatness.”

Laylah ignored the comment. “Find me a veil,” she said, and then added: “Please.”

“Yes, little
 . . .
errr
 . . .
young princess. It will be as you command.”

After she was properly attired, Laylah left the room with Urbana at her side. They strode along a torch-lit hallway and started down a winding stair. The ladies of the bedchamber did not follow, remaining seated on the rug by her door.