Shield of Fire (A Bringer and the Bane Novel) (14 page)

Ravyn’s pressure on his arm increased. “Rhys, what is this book? Do you recognize it?”

He stared at the journal he hadn’t seen for over 300 years. “It’s my father’s diary.”

She gasped, her gaze snapping to Willa. “I don’t understand. When did your husband get the journal?” She looked back to Rhys. “Wasn’t Brother Archibald the monk who saved you after Vile’s attack?”

He nodded, his mind trying to piece together Willa’s words. He turned his attention back to the innkeeper. “If your husband wasn’t one of the original Bringers, how did he return to Inness? The Archway was sealed over a thousand years ago.”

“My husband once told me that leaving the Bringers behind on Inness had never set well with most of the Bringer people. They wanted the door reopened and the soldiers brought home, but the old king refused. When Vile began assassinating those left behind, the cry to reopen the passage grew until the people overthrew the old king and set a new king in his place. A man named Janus, I believe.”

Rhys stood and paced along the wall of shelves. “A rebellion? A new king?” He stopped and looked at Willa. “If the Bringers came through, where are they?”

“I don’t know, Rhys. Bowen never told me more than his reason for being in Inness. But I got the impression there were plans in the works to remove the Bane from Inness. Bowen never said as much, but he would leave for several days and even weeks at a time without telling me where he was going. He’d only say he had Bringer responsibilities.”

Emotions assaulted Rhys, jumbling and tumbling. Each exploded, then faded away.

Anger—all these years alone when there were other full-bloods still living.

Confusion—when had the doorway reopened?

Excitement—what did this mean for the cause?

If there were full-blooded Bringers living on Inness, would they be willing to fight?

If they were here, why hadn’t they joined the fight? Were they hiding?

Again, anger took the forefront.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” he ground out.

“I’d promised to keep the books and information safe.” Willa shifted uncomfortably. “Bowen didn’t want me drawing unwanted attention to myself if something should happen to him.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “That promise was the only thing I had left of my husband.” She looked back at Rhys. “Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t know the journal belonged to your father. I’ve been tempted many times to give it to you during one of your stays. I thought maybe it would do more good in your hands than gathering dust on my shelf…but I couldn’t break my promise to Bowen.”

“Why now?” Rhys asked. His voice sounded cold to his own ears. Inside he knew none of what the Bringers had and had not done was Willa’s fault, but she was the closest thing to a scapegoat right now.

She slid the second journal across the table to sit beside his father’s diary. She seemed to understand this and spoke gently when she replied. “You’re going to need it. I don’t know when, but I think there’s a war coming. These books will serve us better in your keeping than mine.”

Rhys smirked. “We’ve been—
I’ve
been—at war with the Bane for nearly three hundred years.”

Willa shook her head vigorously. “No, Rhys, what you’ve experienced so far is nothing compared to what is predicted in this journal.” She pointed to his father’s book. “The old ways will be resurrected and new hardships will have to be endured.”

“How do you know this?” Ravyn said.

Her body leaned toward Rhys as if blocking any pain Willa’s words might cause him. He kept his attention riveted on the innkeeper, but drew strength from Ravyn’s nearness.

“I read it.” Willa flicked her head toward his father’s worn diary. She leaned against the chair and wrapped her fingers around Orvis’s, who remained steadfast behind his wife. “Bits and pieces, anyway. Not all of it. At times it felt like spying on somebody’s private moments. After Bowen died, I needed some connection to the life I’d just lost. I’ve tried to read his journal but I don’t understand the language.”

Rhys reached for Bowen’s journal. He pulled open the cover. The leather creaked from age and disuse. Familiar symbols and signs filled the pages, but the link between his spoken words and the written language wouldn’t connect.

Ravyn leaned in over his arm to gaze at the pages. “This is the same language as my book.”

Rhys handed her the journal. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She touched the page. “This symbol has always reminded me of a bird in flight.”

“Do you know what it says?” Hope tinged his question.

“No. It’s…” She searched for the right word. “It’s familiar, but I don’t understand it.”

As it was with him. Rhys took the book from her and stared at the words, trying to force them into some kind of coherent language. But the symbols remained silent and secretive.

“It’s the Bringer language,” Willa said. “I can’t read it, but maybe you can find somebody who can.”

His mind raced. Where could he possibly find a Bringer with the ability to read the ancient language? He mimicked Ravyn and propped his elbows on the table. If he hadn’t found such a person in the last three centuries, he obviously didn’t want to be found. He toyed with the idea of taking the books to Illuma Grand, but quickly discarded it. The Bringers there were mixed-bloods, all of them too caught up in politics to know anything about the Bringers’ heritage. He tapped his index fingers together in a steady cadence, trying to focus his frustration.

“Both are yours now,” Willa said.

Rhys’s hand crept toward his father’s diary and stopped just shy of the bottom edge. How could he ever read his father’s words? How could he relive the happy memories before his life had turned to dust? The tips of his fingers inched forward and rested against the cover. Slowly, as if the diary were a poisonous snake, he drew the book toward him and pocketed it inside his tunic. The small lump felt like a brick against his heart.

Ravyn picked up the second book. “May I look at this?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Tension gnawed at his muscles. He rolled his shoulders and he circled his head, trying to ease the strain of the day. He cleared his throat and looked at the couple. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Willa said, her expression serious. “I fear for you and Ravyn. Your father’s predictions are dire, Rhys.” She gave a weak smile. “But you must never give up. There is hope within your father’s pages.”

Ravyn’s words came back to him. She didn’t want to be part of this fight. “May I ask a large favor of you?”

“Anything,” Orvis piped in as he slid back into his chair.

“It’s imperative that Ravyn remains safe.” The words choked in his throat. “Would you allow her to—”

“Have a weapon?” Ravyn interrupted. Rhys’s gaze snapped to her, but she didn’t look at him. “Perhaps a crossbow or a small sword of some kind?”

Words failed him as he stared at her profile. What was she saying? Was her Bringer blood too strong to let her cower from the Bane? Was she choosing to be with him?

It didn’t matter. He’d been reminded today that duty dictated he remain detached. Nothing would change even though she’d decided to travel with him. He was her protector and nothing more.

Why then did his private declaration feel like a lie?

He faced Orvis and Willa. “Yes, and perhaps some supplies for our travels?” he added. “We’ll leave as soon as possible.”

“Of course, of course,” Orvis erupted. “And for you…” He pointed a chubby finger at Ravyn. “I have just the thing. Sit tight.”

He squeezed out of his chair and bustled from the room.

“I’ll get started on your supplies after dinner.” Willa stood and walked to the door, but stopped and faced them. “You’re always welcome and safe here. The entire inn is on sanctified ground, all the way to the edge of the cemetery.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows in surprise. “All of it?”

“Yes. It took a bit of searching, but I finally found a monk willing to do the job.” She smiled. “A month of free meals seemed like a reasonable price for his time and our safety.”

“That would have been a useful bit of information today.”

Her expression turned serious again. “Consider The Dirty Habit your refuge.”

He nodded. “Thank you—for everything.”

She gave him a sad smile and left to tend to dinner. Rhys turned to Ravyn and cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to be a Bringer.”

Her lips thinned under his question. “Obviously, I’m a glutton for punishment. Deciding to go with you doesn’t mean that I’m not scared or that I have the faintest notion of what I’m doing.”

“Understood.”

“So don’t expect miracles.”

“Of course.”

She sighed, “Don’t depend on me, Rhys, or we both could end up dead.”

“I have faith in you, Ravyn.”

She shook her head. “I must be mad.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Get used to it. That kind of insane behavior is in your blood. If you’re anything like me, it’ll be all you can do to stay out of the fray.”

She offered him her hand. “In other words, live or die, we’ll do it together?”

He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her to a stand. “Exactly.”

He closed the distance between them and gazed into the blue depths of her eyes. Her breath caressed his neck. The presence of an impending kiss hung between them. He wanted to kiss her.
Duty, honor.
As if reading his mind, she tilted her chin upward. Like a moth drawn to her heat, his lips lowered.

“Here we are,” Orvis announced as he sidled into the room.

Rhys turned to glower at him. “Wonderful.”

Ravyn stepped back and smiled at the innkeeper wrestling the quiver of arrows and crossbow through the opening.

Once he cleared the doorjamb, he proudly held up his prizes. “For you.”

“Oh, Orvis, they’re perfect,” Ravyn said.

The way she ran an admiring hand along the curve of the polished wood stirred Rhys’s blood. Appreciative fingers plucked the string. She took the black bow awkwardly in one hand while gripping the book in the other and looked at him. “Will you teach me to shoot?”

Rhys took the weapon, testing its weight. “It’s a good fit for you.” He handed it back. “I’ll teach you.”

She smiled, and he suddenly wanted to grant her every wish.
I must be going soft
.

“Where did you get such a weapon?” he said, turning to Orvis. “It’s a masterpiece.”

Orvis beamed with pride. “Made it myself.”

Ravyn shoved the bow toward the innkeeper. “I couldn’t possibly take it.”

“Nonsense.” He waved a hand in the air. “I’ve got a dozen just like it in my shop. Had loads of time on my hands when Willa was pregnant.” He winked at Ravyn. “A man needs a hobby.”

“You mean besides getting your wife pregnant?” Rhys asked.

Orvis wiggled his eyebrows and again waved the offered bow away. “Take it. I want you to have it. If my little girl was in need, I’d want somebody to help.”

Ravyn’s eyes grew wide. After a second, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Orvis. You and your family have shown me more kindness than anybody in my entire life.” She chanced a look at Rhys. “Besides Rhys.”

“Weeell.” Orvis blushed. “You two are pretty easy to get attached to. Now, you better get ready. Go pack. Might I suggest waiting until morning to leave? Night cloaks the Bane. Better to fight them in the light of day.”

“I agree,” Rhys said. “We’ll leave at first light. I’d be surprised if we saw much of the Bane for a day or two after today’s fight. We should take advantage of the lull, get a good night’s sleep, and head out early tomorrow.”

“A sound plan. And if my nose hasn’t fooled me, I’d say we’re having Willa’s famous stew. Full bellies and restful sleep is what you have to look forward to tonight.”

Yes, but for how long
? As much as Rhys didn’t want Willa to be right, he knew her prediction of war might be true. Today’s battle was merely a harbinger of things to come.

Chapter Eleven

Sha-hera stood to the left of Vile’s throne, her shoulder braced against the high, fanned back of bleached bones. The conniving bitch had run straight to the king. Icarus stayed the compulsion to launch himself at her and rip out her throat.

“Icarus.” Vile’s tone was deceptively mild, but threatening enough to draw Icarus’s glare from Sha-hera. “It has come to my attention that you might not be working in the best interest of the Bane. Tell me this isn’t so.”

“My king.” He bowed low. “All my actions are for the good of the Bane and for your glory.”

“I want to believe you, Icarus. Really, I do.” The king tapped a long black talon against the arm of his throne. “But the latest report I received was rather disturbing.”

Snickers of laughter from the watching demons rippled around the throne room. Sha-hera’s lip curled in a mocking smile. He would torture her before he tore her apart, piece by piece. He would listen to her plead and beg for mercy, and then he would torture her some more. No suffering was too cruel for the back-biting harpy.

“I’m afraid the reports you’ve received are inaccurate,
Father
.” He stressed the paternal title to remind Sha-hera he was no mere soldier. His stare never wavered from the female demon. “I fear these lies are motivated by greed. The Bringer has powers beyond what we originally thought.”

“Really?” Vile stood and walk to the end of the dais. “How interesting.”

For the first time, Icarus saw the lie in his father’s eyes. His words feigned ignorance, but Vile definitely knew about the woman’s power, and there was something false in the way he moved that Icarus couldn’t place.

“All the more reason to secure her so I can absorb those powers.” The king descended the steps to the throne room floor. He kicked the carcass of a dead dog, its flesh stripped long ago by the filthy demons. “No other Bringer has the power I need.” With his hands clenched behind his back as if deep in contemplation, Vile meandered toward Icarus, stopping inches away from him. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I cannot open The Abyss of Souls without her.”

Icarus stilled. “The Abyss of Souls?” He struggled to show no outward signs of alarm as Vile stared at him, gauging his reaction. “Legend says he who opens The Abyss of Souls controls an unstoppable army.”

An arrogant smile spread across Vile’s face. “Does that prospect not thrill you—son?”

Icarus said nothing, acknowledging neither the slurring con-descension with which Vile said
son
, nor the revelation that his father had not been as idle as he’d thought. Opening The Abyss of Souls would guarantee Vile’s domination and guarantee Icarus an eternity under his father’s brutal rule. The ground on which Icarus stood was slowly crumbling. This could not happen.

“A worthy plan for a worthy king,” he said, bowing his head in a way he hoped exhibited subordination. “If I have erred, it has been on the side of caution, Father. I was not aware of your plans.”

“I appreciate your efforts to keep us all safe, Icarus, but I want the Bringer—now.”

Icarus’s gaze slid to Sha-hera. Did she know of Vile’s plans? She’d called him out, directly challenging him. Did she believe the spot beside Vile’s throne was already hers? If she knew of Vile’s plan to open The Abyss of Souls, she would most definitely want to position herself as close to the king as possible and reap the benefits.

Vile’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Perhaps I have worked you too hard.” He gripped Icarus’s shoulder and steered him toward the group of succubi. “I command you to take your ease and enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

He gestured toward the near-naked female demons lounging on padded benches inside the pleasure pen. The king’s whores. They smiled and cooed, eyeing him longingly. A voluptuous succubus ran her hands down her breasts and tweaked her nipples. Groans of pleasure issued from her mouth. Icarus suppressed the urge to bare his fangs at the group of females he considered no better than dogs, but instead he smiled, knowing Vile watched him.

“You’re too kind, my king, but I’d rather continue with my quest.”

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you.” Vile’s dictate held no room for debate. “I have other plans to put in motion. Sha-hera.”

“Yes, my king.” She jumped from the dais and fell on one knee before Vile.

Icarus curled his talons into his palms. It took all of his self-control not to tear off her head.

“Take your army of succubi and do what needs to be done. I want the Bringer at any cost. Now.”

“Yes, my king.” She stood and slid a glance toward Icarus and smiled. “I will not fail you.”

“We’ll see,” Vile said mockingly.

Sha-hera strode past Icarus, head held high, arrogance firmly in place. The strength of will it took not to attack her nearly overwhelmed him. Now was not the time to lose control. He needed to appear compliant to the king. He focused his attention on the preening females.

“Icarus,” his father drawled.

He pretended difficulty with pulling his gaze away from the succubi. “Yes, my king?”

Vile chuckled and held his arm toward the female demons as if offering Icarus a roomful of treasure. “I command you to take your ease.”

He gave Vile a compliant smile. “As you wish, Father.”

“This doesn’t mean poring over your maps and planning more Bringer attacks. You will bed one of my whores. I command it.”

Vile was trying very hard to keep him occupied, perhaps a little too hard. Icarus bowed his head in obedience. “As you wish, my king. A particular succubus has promised to do the most amazing thing to me. Perhaps I will seek her out.”

Vile smiled like a proud father. “If you find her worthy, send her to me when you’re finished. I’m always up for new pleasures.”

Icarus gritted his teeth. The thought of sharing anything with his father made him sick. “I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit. It may take quite some time.”

Vile let out a bark of laughter. “If she’s that good, I definitely want a taste.”

Shouts and howls erupted from the horde of demons. Drums thundered and the whining notes of the dancers’ music began. The king’s whores spilled from their pen, gyrating and twirling toward the king. With a low, respectful bow and a wicked smile, Icarus strode from the throne room.

The heavy beats faded as he headed down the dark tunnel leading to the soldiers’ training area where Sha-hera and her army would be preparing for their mission. He wanted to know what she planned. Vile would be furious if he detected Icarus’s hand in Sha-hera’s failure, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

The tunnel narrowed and dipped into the bowels of the Shadow World. Darkness enveloped him. Few demons besides soldiers dared to travel here. There were things in the deep. Things even demons feared. He’d explored many of the untraveled tubes and caverns, but there were many more he hadn’t. The Shadow World sprawled beneath the Upperland of Inness, an entire world in itself.

The muffled excitement of voices flowed from a doorway farther down the tunnel. Sha-hera’s soldiers. Icarus pressed his body against the cold stone and slipped into a wide crevice in the wall. A few feet in, the space widened to reveal jagged carved steps. Silently, he followed the steps up and around to a rock shelf, on alert to any other demon that might be lurking in the shadows. The ledge jutted over the chamber below where Sha-hera and her army now gathered.

He crept forward, making sure to stay away from the light. Below, the succubi army crowded around a stone slab table, arguing and plotting their attack to retrieve the Bringer. He smiled at their plan. Ignorant fools.