Impending Reprisals (26 page)

Chapter 37

They moved as one through the thick forest—Anya, Merivic, Malik and a hundred of Decessus’ finest soldiers. The moon was full and bright above, lighting their way in the dead of the night. Anya had no idea where they were going, nor did she care. She simply moved with the crowd, being led to wherever their destination was, as she stared at the back of the guard’s head in front of her.

Her mind was blank, her insides cold and numb, as she eyed up the texture of the man’s hair. She did not know who was in front of her, and again, she did not care. It was just something to do as she moved one foot in front of the other.

A deep red cowl flowed loosely around her form, and a circlet rested upon her head with a stone matching her engagement ring dangling on her forehead. She could feel the weight of the multi-colored gem shifting as she looked around, peeking around her hood. A sharp stab of pain and anger pierced her chest as she realized what she was doing, and her eyes slid over to bore into the back of the man’s head once again.

I do not care if Kael is here, she told herself, shoving aside any sense of emotion, and forcing her gaze forward. Bastard.

The soldier in front of her peeled away and she absently turned to follow until Merivic gently took her elbow. “This way, Anya.” She allowed him to guide her as she studied the ground at her feet rather than where they were going. “Anya?”

Snapping out of her reverie, she suddenly realized they had stopped walking. “Yes?” She glanced from Merivic to Malik, then to Gerhard who was standing in front of her with his hand out.

“Your amulet, Lady Anya,” Malik explained, a tone of exasperation tainting his voice. “You cannot wear it during the promising. The magic of it could disrupt the harmony of the ceremony.”

With a shrug, Anya unclasped the necklace and dropped into Gerhard’s palm.

“I will return it as soon as it is complete,” he promised, backing away with a bow.

She nodded slightly in return and finally took stock of her surroundings.

All the soldiers were spread out with their backs to them—encircling her, Merivic and Malik. Her gaze ran along the row of men until something blocked her view, then the circle picked back up again. Squinting, she tried to figure out what the obstruction was, but was not able to make it out until Merivic led her closer.

It was a black swatch of fabric stretched out from one tree trunk to another, sweeping against the ground and pulled higher than Anya was tall. If the guards had been looking, it would have appeared as if the night had swallowed Anya, Merivic and Malik whole as they slipped between the folds of fabric to the clearing on the other side.

Emerging out of the silk barrier, Anya found herself within a topless tent, with pieces of the black fabric stretching from tree to tree forming a wavering wall. They approached a large stone jutting out from the ground, the top naturally flat and a perfect perch for the candles and incense Malik had burning there.

It was obvious the candles had been lit long ago, for the pools of wax they sat in were spread far, even dripping down the side of the stone here and there. Malik pulled out several small vials and potion bottles, and set them on the stone, unmindful of the melted wax.

The crickets sang in the distance and an owl hooted as Anya and Merivic came to a stop near Malik. The two men pulled the hoods back of their black cowls, and then nodded to Anya that she should do the same. Hesitant, she pulled back her deep red hood, then glanced at Merivic.

He flashed her an easy smile as he took her hands in his, grasping them tightly. “There is nothing to be nervous about, my love,” he murmured. “It is simply a rite of passage, if you will. A precursor to our true union—the blessing.”

Malik raised a hand indicating he demanded silence, and Anya felt a tremble in the air as everything became dead quiet—the insects, the animals, the wind. And then the cleric began to speak to Anya. “Your choices carried you this far, to this moment, and now it is up to the fates.”

He ran his fingers down her eyes to close them, and she complied. As he spoke in a language she did not understand, she felt a warmth spreading from the stone laying against her forehead and the one secured to her finger. Before she had a chance to fully comprehend it, she felt more heat as Malik smeared a liquid above her brow.

Merivic watched in fascination as the blood streamed between Anya’s eyes and down her nose, a crimson drop falling free to the front of her ceremonial cowl. The stirring in his belly could not be denied as his hunger for her grew, but he resisted his urges as he tried to concentrate on the cleric’s words.

Anya swayed on her feet, the warmth from the gems slipping her into a stupor as her head fell back. A gasp slipped out as she felt compelled to raise her arms from her sides, her eyes still closed against the scene around her.

Merivic pulled his power from within, harnessed it at his core, and held it, waiting for the right moment.

And then it came.

A wind kicked up and curled around Anya’s slight frame, her hair dancing on its breath before it shot straight through her—spine to heart. As it burst out of her chest, she arched her back and her head tipped back further. Merivic released his gift to her, a stream of maroon light bursting from his center and directly into her chest.

Something screeched in the night sky, shattering the blank slate of Anya’s mind and shocking her system as visions slammed through her: A flash of a silver-encrusted crown, dripping in blood. Hands raised to a crimson moon, offering a still-beating sacrifice. The cloaked form of a weeping woman over innocence lost. Winds raging against stone walls, fanning the flames within. The wail of a helpless babe, cradled in unforgiving arms.

Anya’s mind went dark, and she opened her eyes in a daze. “What happened?” She staggered as her head swam.

“You must still be weak from the attack,” Merivic lied convincingly, mock concern concealing the elation within.

“Oh,” Anya said, her eyes rolling back before she fainted.

Merivic caught her and easily swung her into his arms.

Malik wiped the blood from her forehead and placed a hand over her heart. “It beats strong and steady.” A wicked grin lifted his mouth. “It is a start.”

“She is the one, Malik. I can feel it.”

“Surviving the promising is only half of it, My Lord. Others have survived it in the past.”

“True, but those that did were not lucid.”

“I must admit, I am hopeful myself, Sire. After all, this one was born from strong magic…”

“She is the one,” Merivic declared, strong with conviction. “You will see.”

As Merivic ducked through the black barrier, Gerhard rushed to his side. “Is she alright, My Lord?” He quickly hooked the amulet back around her neck.

“She is merely tired. See? Already, she sleeps.”

Gerhard saw the smear of blood blended near her brow, but said nothing as he also noted her deep even breaths. He was the one who had found her, broken and bleeding, on Tajvek’s back, and he quickly decided they must have missed the blood when they cleaned her wounds earlier. It was the only explanation that made any sense, though he himself knew it was doubtful.

*****

Anya woke in the night with a gasp, a sheen of sweat glistening across her skin. Her hair, tangled and wet, stuck to her forehead, cheeks, and neck as she tried to get her bearings. The noise in her head quieted even as she grasped at the dissipating dream. She could not remember any of it, only how it made her feel—a sensation that was not fading with the visions.

Whereas before the ceremony she felt empty and hollow, she now felt full of confliction and sorrow. The emotions from the nightmare mixed and swirled with her own from what she had done. She had reacted in anger, responded emotionally. She should have waited for a moment of clarity before deciding to go through with the promising ceremony.

Big, fat tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. She did not sob, but mourned quietly, tucking her legs to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. Laying her head on her knees, she reflected back to the forest, to the clearing within the confines of the black silk, but could remember nothing specific other than the setting. Once again, it was only a ghost of sensations that she could recall, and they left her feeling violated and afraid.

*****

“Did she stay in bed for the day?” Malik asked, his hand poised over the parchment ready to record Merivic’s response.

“Yes, but her strength is returning at a steady rate.” He watched as the cleric inscribed the information. “She also seemed despondent. Not absent or damaged, just distracted, and maybe a little sad.”

“I cannot help but wonder what she saw during the ceremony. Perhaps after the blessing, I could extract her visions?” His tone turned hopeful.

Merivic shrugged easily. “It does not matter to me, as long as it is safe for her.”

“Of course, it would be. I would not cause her harm.”

“Then do as you like.” He tugged an unraveled scroll across the table. “Speaking of harm… Is this the information you found on spiritual guardians?”

“It is. As with the promising ceremony, it will need to be removed for the blessing.”

“I do not see that as being a problem.”

“Nor do I, Sire. However, after the blessing is where it gets tricky. It would be best, obviously, for her to remain in possession of the amulet to assist in her safety.”

“Obviously.”

“Then we must find a way to control it, and make ourselves immune. Until then, we cannot risk Tajvek making an appearance at an inopportune time.”

“Agreed.” Merivic gestured to the scroll. “Did you find what you need?”

“Not yet. I only found what would be required to momentarily stun it. I am working on the potion as we speak, but it is not a long-term solution.”

“Well, I found out as much as I could from Anya herself. But I could not press for much without raising suspicion.”

Malik nodded. “I will continue my research then. In the meantime, you should find other more suitable means to protect her until we have this cat creature under our control.”

“I can double, even triple, her guards. And, perhaps, she should learn to defend herself as well. Maybe Kaelestis could train her.”

Malik arched a brow.

“He is the best,” Merivic stated. “And she should learn from the best. Besides, maybe she will accidently kill him.” He snickered at the thought and mused, “It would be a nice side benefit.”

Malik joined him in the jest when suddenly a magic alarm tripped, and his entire room pulsed in a blue light. Merivic glanced around in irritation causing Malik to explain hastily, “The castle has been breached!”

Without wasting a moment, Merivic unsheathed his sword before he was even out the door. Racing through the darkened tunnels, all he could think of was getting to Anya.

I did not get this close to lose it all now! he thought, furiously, as images of her slain shifted through his mind, blinding him in a raging fury.

*****

Kael slipped off his horse and handed the reins to Caleb with barely a glance. Eager to return to the kingdom, he now felt the anxiousness lifting and it left a worn path in its place. He had expended so much adrenaline to get back with due haste, that he barely had any in reserve to make it to his quarters. Although Anya wanted nothing more to do with him, Kael knew he would only feel truly at ease guarding her—whether it be from afar or up close, it ultimately made no difference to him in the larger picture.

I promised her father, he thought, diligently, and the spirit of her mother. I will now, and forevermore, keep her safe.

Kael actually felt a measure of gratitude toward Merivic for sending him away. Although he thought it would destroy him to be gone for even a day, it was what he needed to regain his clarity.

Let her be mad at me, he had decided. Let her hate me. Our personal relationship only causes me distraction. This is a better way. Distance is a better way.

Kael’s shoulders lifted at Gerhard’s approach, and he was appreciative to have such a competent comrade in arms to also call a friend. He would also keep Anya safe, of that, Kael did not doubt.

“I had hoped you would arrive this night. I wished to speak with you.”

“Is Anya alright?”

“Yes, yes. Well, as far as I can tell.”

Kael spun and grabbed Gerhard’s collar. “What happened to her?!”

“Calm yourself, my brethren, and I will tell you.”

Gerhard told Kael of the promising—the setting, the strange tongues in which he heard Malik speak, the flashes of light from behind the cloth, and Anya, passed out in Merivic’s arms, with blood on her head.

“The promising? So they are…” Kael felt the color drain from his face.

“No, no. I know what you are thinking. They are not wed. As I said, it was the promising ceremony.”

Frustrated, Kael threw his hands up. “What the hell is a promising ceremony?”

Gerhard shrugged. “Apparently, a formality of some sort.”

“It would certainly help to know if we are to figure this out. Is there—”

A short burst of hollering interrupted Kael’s question as a man came bolting from the castle and toward the back. More shouts and commotions came from within the building itself, and then Kael noticed the flicker of fire as torches blew out the windows.