The Bonds of Blood (36 page)

“I don’t know,” Grace said.

There was a hasty knock on the door,
causing them all to jump. The person on the other side did not wait
for a beckon before stepping in.

Angelica was relieved to see Madalain
standing there, flanked by several servants. Quickly she gave them
orders, and they set about clearing the mess out of the room. It
did not take long before the table and other clutter were removed,
and the chairs rearranged around Jovian’s bed.

“I beg you all for silence,” Madalain
said as she sank into a large chair at the foot of Jovian’s bed.
For a moment she stared at the youth propped up on pillows as if
considering him. “There is something I need to tell you,” she said
rubbing the creases in her forehead with her hand as if trying to
relieve a headache. “I know that you came here seeking visions, and
while I can still promise that the trainee here will receive his, I
cannot promise that all of you will be able to have access to our
help in that regard.” Grace was able to pull off feigned
disappointment. “It has probably come to your attention that the
temple is undergoing certain energy changes, and that is because we
rally to face the verax-acis that has been following you. At this
time we are not able to meet him with the power that we possess,
though soon we will be able to.

“At the present time, however, what we
attempt is generating enough power that it is keeping his will at
bay. Therefore there is little need to worry about any further
advances from him. However, merely keeping him at bay is not what
we are looking for. What we attempt will drive him from the temple
all together. That being said, it would be best for you to leave
here tomorrow. I know that Jovian is not well enough to ride,
albeit he is not well enough to even rush as would be needed for
escape from the verax-acis. However, we do have an escape from here
that is tunneled underground. This will lead you nearly to the
Chaundebar Plains where you will be safe from dalua.”

Grace’s head was suddenly
spinning. Everything seemed to be moving so fast, and she knew now
that it was because they were being chased. She hated this; she
liked being in control, and that was rapidly turning out not to be
the case. Grace was not a very trusting person, living through the
Splitting of the World like she had. She figured that no one that
lived through the period was overly trusting. It was because of
this untrusting nature that she was so hesitant to take the
bishop’s offer.
But what choice do I
have?

“What is it exactly that you are
attempting to do?” Jovian asked and Madalain appraised him with a
curious look.

“How much have you heard of the powers
the Hierdule and Hetaira possess?” Madalain said, chuckling at
Grace’s response.

“Just what most people know,” Jovian
said glancing at Grace who blushed and looked at the floor. “We
know that their touch incites visions, and that they can call down
the Goddess … oh.” He said finally seeing what was
happening.

“Precisely,” Madalain confirmed. “Two
of our priests are currently calling on the aid of the Goddess. It
is our hope that once she has taken over their earthly bodies that
they will be able to drive the verax-acis away from our stoop.” She
spread her hands as if explaining something. “If he tries to feed
on them, so much the better. I am sure the mind of a dalua like
that would not be able to live once tapping into the thoughts of
the Mother Goddess.

“Please, I must get back to the
priests. I wanted only to come and tell you what was happening, to
ensure you that you were safe, and that I would see you safely out
of here.” She stood then and walked to the door. “Please feel free
to roam the temple as you see fit; we have nothing to hide here.”
With that she left.

Moments after she left Grace pushed
herself out of the chair and looked around at them all. Not even
after their morning nourishment did any of them look as well rested
as she had hoped. A mere few hours of sleep couldn’t remedy days’
worth of riding and rationed meals. “I think it would be wise if we
rested today, for I am sure we could all use it. You girls leave
Jovian and Maeven in peace. The bishop tells us that we are safe,
but I would like it, Maeven, if you stayed here and watched Jovian
to be on the safe side.” Grace walked to the door, but Jovian
stopped her before she could get there.

“Grace, can I have a word with you?” he
asked as he climbed to his feet and hobbled to the door on weak
legs.

“Of course,” she nodded, and led him
down the hall to her room where they would have privacy.

The first thing Grace noticed when she
entered her room was the telfetch glowing a soft red on her ancient
bed stand. As Jovian was right behind her, Grace quickly moved to
the rojo and opened the lid, causing the metal to grow cold once
more.

Eagerly she removed the light-blue
parchment that her sister always used and unfolded the letter. Her
eyes scanned it quickly, but there was not much to read.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Jovian,”
Grace said absentmindedly as she read the letter:

Dear Grace,

Annbell and I heeded your
words and rode south to track the verax-acis that you named as
Beckindal. We found him not far from Meedesville with the captive
you named Randal Johnston. It is my pleasure to report that we have
Randal safe and on our way back to the keep, but unfortunately we
were not able to dispose of the verax-acis. You should seek safety
soon, as he will no doubt be hot on your trail.

Much love, Sara.

“How well I know,” Grace muttered to
herself disposing the letter on her bed. It was not unnatural for
Sara to be overly stiff in her letters.

“So, Jovian,” Grace said taking a seat
on her small bed so that she was eye level with Jovian where he sat
in an armchair like the ones in his room. “You wanted to talk to
me?”

He cleared his throat, and when he
spoke his voice quivered as if what he was saying made him very
nervous. “Grace, why is Beckindal so keen on getting me? I mean, I
can understand the passing desire he had in Meedesville, but to go
this far out of his way to retrieve me? What does he want? I am
just me, nothing special at all. Just Jovian,” he said as if trying
to reason with Grace, as if that would turn back Beckindal’s
advances.

“I know, Jovian, and I cannot answer
that question. I know you are just Jovian,” Grace thought darkly.
“I wish I had the answers for you. I know that you guys have come
to think that I have all the answers because when we were at the
plantation I did. The truth is, I do not know about
this.”

Jovian nodded in understanding. “Thank
you, Grace. I just thought that you might have a better idea than I
do about what he is after. If you don’t mind, I think I will get
some rest. I feel completely drained after that attack
today.”

Grace nodded as he stood and walked to
the door. “I understand.”

Grace hated lying to him. She hated not
being able to tell him all she knew, but the old lady knew that
none of them were yet ready for that …

When will the time be
right?
She had asked herself that very
question since the journey began, and today would be no
different.
When should I tell you, my dear
boy?

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

_A
gentle humming,
caressing Jovian’s face,
vibrating through
his body like static brought him slowly to wake. His skin felt more
aware, more sensitive. He could feel every stroke of the rough
blanket over his bare skin when he moved, and the very touch seemed
to make his skin prickle with more of the static that coursed
through him. He shivered with a slight smile on his face. He really
enjoyed this feeling.

He was not frightened when he woke, but
instead he stretched as if he just had the most relaxing sleep of
his life, and after the events of the last few days it surely felt
as though he had.

After a large stretch that shook his
whole body, and an equally large yawn, Jovian looked around his
small room lit by the dim oil lamp by the door, positively glowing
with silver light from the full moon. The whole room was flooded
with light, though much more dim than that of day, but the lighting
was different, more dream-like, ethereal.

He sat up suddenly, alarmed. Not only
did the feeling of the energy sink into him as foreign, but Maeven
was nowhere around.

Honestly what Jovian felt like doing at
that moment was pulling the covers back up to his head and
snuggling down into the feathery mattress, but the beating energy,
like a second heart under his skin, would not let him do that. It
pulled at him, calling out to him in a language that only his body
could understand and respond to, nothing that he could
rationalize.

If he could reason with the intense
feeling he was having he would ask it why it wanted him to get out
of bed and go downstairs, but instead his body just reacted, and
before he knew it Jovian could feel the cold wood under his bare
feet and the cool doorknob in his hand.

He never realized that he
had gotten out of bed, and for a moment he hesitated wondering if
this was a trick of the verax-acis.
Has he
gotten inside?
Jovian wondered, and he
briefly thought of going back to bed. What if Beckindal hadn’t
gotten inside at all, but was luring Jovian
out
side?

The thought was enough to freeze his
hand in the act of twisting the doorknob. He closed his eyes and
took several deep breaths and jumped nearly out of his skin when he
heard Angelica outside his door.

“Jovian?” she asked quietly and Jovian
was surprised he did not wet himself in terror.

He pulled open his door, which
accomplished scaring her nearly as much as she had him.

“What?” he hissed.

“Do you feel that also?” she asked, her
heavy heartbeat apparent in the thickness of her voice.

“If you are referring to the crackling
energy running through the temple, and buzzing under my skin, and
making me do things that I have no control over, then
yes.”

“I thought so,” she answered simply
staring down the hall, worrying the edge of her lip. He gazed at
her curiously.

“What should we do?” he whispered. “I
have this intense desire to be downstairs, but I am afraid it might
be Beckindal trying to lure me outside. I then thought if it was
him then I would feel vile, but that was not the case when he
touched me last time. Last time I had just simply slipped into
another place. What we are feeling could be him, you
know?”

“I thought so as well.” She sounded
distant. “But you do know there is only one way to find
out.”

“I never gave any implication that I
intended on finding out, Angie.”

“Look, I know that it could very well
be Beckindal. The only thing is, when he touched my mind earlier I
could fight him off, though he didn’t seem to want me to. He took
over my mind and fought to keep me. This time, when this force drew
me out I was able to get out from under its influence easily, as if
it wasn’t really forcing me to do anything I really didn’t desire
to do. See Jovian, what I mean is this force was just urging me to
do what I wanted, whereas Beckindal forced thoughts and desires
into me.”

She made sense.

“So what do we do?” Jovian
asked.

“Look, the truth is,” she said stepping
into his room so that others would not overhear them. “The truth is
that neither of us are experts at what he is capable of. It could
be that he has several different ploys to get at a person. However,
I do not feel that this power is him.”

“Nor do I,” Jovian agreed.

“So I say that we go down and see what
it is …” She seemed to falter for a moment, as if unsure whether
Jovian felt the same. Finally he nodded.

“I agree.”

“Then let’s go,” Angelica said stepping
back out of the door. As an afterthought Jovian retrieved the oil
lamp from the bracket on the wall and stepped out, securing the
door behind him.

They padded down the stairs on bare
feet, trying to be as silent as possible. As the stairs were carved
into the stone wall, spiraling down to the ground floor, this was
fairly simple to achieve.

The further they went down the stairs
the more palpable the energy became until it almost shimmered
through the air, caressing their skin, raising goose bumps along
their backs, and on occasion, drawing a gasp from their parted
lips.

Finally at the bottom of the stairs
Jovian held the oil lamp up to see where the energy was coming
from, for here it was strongest. The lamp, however, was not
needed.

To his left Jovian saw the door that
had previously been locked was now standing slightly ajar. Silver
threads of power, presumptuously the same energy they felt, were
drifting through the opening from the space they had never seen.
The energy was slight, and wispy, like some kind of gossamer fog
drifting, eddying in a lazy breeze.

The sight gave Jovian cold chills, and
he decidedly did not want to go any further. By the look of
Angelica, she was resolute in the same choice.