The Bonds of Blood (4 page)

“And you yourself,” Amber joked,
jabbing him in the ribs but only succeeded in jabbing him close to
his wound. He flinched, and that made Amber feel worse. “Here,” she
supplied weakly, handing him the cold tea to make up for her
blunder.

“Thank you,” he said, and took a drink.
“Mint, that’s nice.” Even though it was cold, it soothed Jovian who
at one point in the trip thought he would never make it back
home.

“What happened to you?” Joya asked, and
that seemed to start all sorts of questions and answers. Jovian
told them of the trip, and of the strange laughter. He was sure to
mention to Amber how much a coward Alhamar was, for it was no
secret that she and Alhamar had been involved for some time. To
this she answered that his being “less than heroic” was nothing new
to her, and at least he would not go off hunting and come home half
dead. Jovian blushed. Eagerly they urged him on, and he told them
about the attack, and the beast that he found himself faced
with.

“I’ve heard about those,” said
Angelica. “It’s said the Black Shucks look just as you have
described. It is a type of dalua dog, said to come from the Realm
of the Dead.”

Jovian stared at her for a few moments
speechless, and then his eyes brightened. “I saw the Aramaiti again
while I was there.” Amber and Joya had never seen the Guardian
Spirit themselves, but they had often heard Angelica and Jovian
speak of it.

“You did?” Angelica asked, scooting
forward. “When did it come?”

“It was right after I prayed for help,
and from my right came this dull silver light. The fog seemed to be
dispelled by her coming, and the fog shifted away from
her—”

“Her?” Angelica asked.

“Yes, she revealed herself to me. She
was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, but thinking back
now, she didn’t really seem that extraordinary.” He described her
as best as he could remember. “The most hypnotic thing about was
her eyes, and the fact that her hair was as black as any you would
find in all the Shadow Realm.”

“Are you sure she’s not dalua?” Joya
asked critically set on guard by the mention of her
hair.

“Are you sure you aren’t?” Jovian
asked.

“Point taken,” she said.

“She seemed very magical indeed, and
that is what chased away the creature—”

“Black Shuck,” Angelica
insisted.

“Okay, Black Shuck,” Jovian
relented.

They all sat for some time listening to
Jovian go on and on about the woman, and then he gave a great sigh
as his eyes turned to the window.

Amber stood, and ruffled his already
messy hair. “Don’t ever do something like that again, because if
the next dalua doesn’t kill you, I just might.”

“I’ll try to ask permission next
time.”

“That’s better.” Amber smiled and
stepped away from the bed.

Joya gave him a quick hug and retreated
to the doorway.

“Angie, are you coming?” Joya asked,
opening the door.

“In a minute,” she responded, and the
two oldest sisters left the room.

“I was very worried, Angie,” Jovian
said.

“I know,” Angelica said, wiggling his
left foot. “I was very frightened when I saw you on that
litter.”

He turned his gaze to a pond beyond the
windowpane.

“What was it like?” Angelica asked.
“The Black Shuck?”

“It was like the most horrible of dalua
you could ever see; true Chaos through and through. Of course, at
the time I was frightened enough that I didn’t really want to think
about how Chaotic it was. No matter how I tried, though, there was
no doubt that the creature wanted nothing less than my soul.”
Angelica was sure he was not seeing the pond any longer.

“I can bet it was,” she said, standing.
“Do you want me to keep you company anymore?”

“Yes, I think that would be nice,” he
said.

They sat like that for a while in
complete silence, and it wasn’t until Jovian fell asleep that
Angelica took the mug from him and left the room for her own
bed.

Jovian was not sure what time in the
night he was woken by the dream. In fact, when he woke up to the
eerie light of predawn, Jovian could not exactly recall what the
dream had been which woke him in a cold sweat.

He was most uncomfortable, but not just
from the dream—and his now damp sheets. His leg throbbed, and his
wrist hurt. Wincing, he reached for the tincture Grace had left
beside the bed and placed a few drops into his mouth.

It took scant moments for the tincture
to work, and Jovian could not tell exactly when he drifted back off
to sleep, and back into the strange dream. The cryptic nature of
the dream hid any obvious significance … perhaps it was a product
of the belladonna Grace was keeping him on.

He tried to fight it, but he had never
been one to control his dreams, and so it was that Jovian found
himself drifting back into the macabre vision:

It is not me,
the voice whispered into his
mind
. It is only a mask. Do not hesitate
to do that which must be done.
Jovian
recognized the voice, but he was not sure from where. He was too
far into sleep to make any sense of the random images flashing
before his eyes, but they disturbed him nonetheless. There was
blood, trees, blackened grass, and five dead women, all more
beautiful than any he had ever seen—including the Aramaiti—all
startling in their innocence. Images flashed before his eyes, all
separate but somehow connected. Red, like blood, blotted out the
images. There was intense pain, both physical and emotional, and a
searing heat. For a moment his breath stopped sharply as he saw
only blackness and whirling stars above chasing him down into
oblivion. Then he felt relieved, a silver light, then a different
voice, beautiful, like angelic music.

Awaken,
child
, the voice cooed. Jovian could not
tell if it was male or female, for it was both deep and alluring,
but musical and gentle.
Awaken, Jovian,
one who courts the Pale Horse.

CHAPTER THREE

_A
knock on her door
brought
Angelica out of her reverie, and
she called, “Come in.”

Amber and Joya both pushed through the
door, each one wearing a long black gown, but in different styles.
Amber was the type who enjoyed showing more of her frame, whether
it was trendy or not, so her silk gown swept down to the floor, and
where it didn’t cling to her, it wisped about her.

Joya, on the other hand, was all about
fashion, so it was no shock to find her in the more commonly seen
gown of extra fabric, hoop, and petticoats.

“We didn’t even know him well,” Joya
complained. “I can understand going to pay our last respects, but
why do we have to attend the funeral?” She toyed with her black,
lacey umbrella, much more for show than any practical use.
Angelica, doting a cotton black dress styled much like Amber’s,
checked her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with what she
saw … with the exception of the bruised face.

“Angelica, would you like to tell her
why this time? I am getting a little tired of repeating myself,”
Amber pleaded.

“Of course,” Angelica said, putting the
final pin in her golden hair. “It is our duty, as children of
Dauin, and heirs to the House Neferis, to welcome and see off all
servants under our care.” Angelica quoted their father and motioned
Amber to help her finish buttoning the back of her gown.

“I know,” Joya rolled her eyes. “But
it’s not like we are all heirs; I mean, Amber is the oldest, after
all.”

“Yes, but it is still only proper,”
Angelica said. “Now stop whining. You are all gussied up; might as
well make an appearance, Joya.” And with that, Angelica linked arms
with Amber, and they hurried Joya out of the room and off to the
funeral.

It was an emotional time for most of
the servants, and some of the older residents of the plantation,
but seeing how the girls’ never new old man Nelson that well, all
they could muster was a forced look of concern and feigned
mourning.

The ritual was held, and before the
girls knew it, the pyre was being lit.

“She’s gone,” Angelica heard Joya
whisper softly behind her.

“What?” Angelica turned around, but her
sister was no longer behind her. Instead, Angelica peered out at
the plantation, somehow different now, more sorrowful. All around
the house, the fields were decimated, and the crops lay flat on the
ground. “We won’t be able to salvage any of it,” she heard a man
say, but Angelica saw no man in sight.

“She is gone,” Angelica heard Joya
again, but the voice was distant, hollow, as if coming from far
off. Soon the voice was lost in a strong wind that tore at
Angelica, forcing her to close her eyes.

When the wind finally died out, she
opened her eyes and watched as an eerie black fog rose around the
plantation, enveloping it in its pungent darkness. In the moments
that followed, Angelica felt small and insignificant, like a pawn
in some larger scheme.

There was a horrible sense of loss, and
she cried out as pain lanced through her hands. She looked down and
her hands seemed to be melting, fusing together with other hands.
She was loosing her identity. She was merging with something
darker, more powerful, and the two of them were becoming a force
that had the potential to either heal the world, or plunge it into
Chaos.

There was not just one pair of hands,
but three, forming a triangle of which she was a point, and when
Angelica looked up, she felt something touch her back.

Startled, she came to herself. The
vision disappeared in a licking of flames as Angelica watched the
pyre catch.

Angelica felt someone poking her in the
back again and she turned, somewhat woodenly, to meet Joya’s
stare.

“She’s gone,” Joya said.

“What?” Angelica asked even more
confused, for she thought they had just been through all
this.

“Amber,” Joya said, her face shadowed
by the umbrella, “she is over there with Alhamar.”

Angelica followed Joya’s pointed finger
and saw her other sister standing with the dark haired youth, all
puffy chest and charm. “Eh, so she is,” Angelica said,
unimpressed.

“It looks like she will be a while;
shall we head back to the house?”

At the mention of the house, Angelica
felt a coldness creep up her legs, despite the heat of the spring
day. She managed a nod and followed her sister back to the
house.

After having let her hair down and
traded the black gown for a simple blue cotton one, Angelica made
her way to Jovian’s room. Grace was just leaving, closing the oaken
door silently behind her.

“He is resting now, but not sleeping.
Don’t get him too worked up,” the old lady said with a wag of her
crooked finger.

Angelica clasped her hands before her
and nodded innocently. “I will try not to.”

Grace raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I am
sure you will succeed in your efforts.”

Slowly Angelica opened the door and
tiptoed in. At the muffled thump of the closing door, Jovian began
to stir. He inhaled deeply and stretched his left arm high above
his head. “Hi,” he said through a yawn.

“Hi, how are you feeling today?”
Angelica asked, sitting with her back to the window.

“Better. She has me on a different drug
today; didn’t catch the name.”

Angelica picked up the bottle, but
couldn’t really tell what it said as the label seemed to be written
in a different language.

“Angie?” Jovian asked. “Can you do me a
huge favor?”

“Sure, anything,” Angelica said, easing
forward in the chair.

“Can you have a servant bring me some
more mint tea, and get me some water and soap to wash up? I have
been laying here for two days, after having hunted and riding a hot
horse, and I feel in dire need of a bath.” Angelica smiled and
pulled the rope that was just out of Jovian’s reach, signaling a
servant to his room.