The Bonds of Blood (9 page)

I already know them all,
dear. But I am not interested in who you desire, and for what
purposes. I know all of you intimately already. And I must say that
you have no control over your mind at all. The first lesson you
should learn is that when you try not to think of something, it
only increases your thoughts of it.

“Who are you?” Joya asked again, this
time more forcefully.

Good, I like
determination.

“That didn’t answer my question. Who
are you?”

Open your eyes, daughter
Neferis, and know me.

Slowly Joya opened her eyes.
Immediately her sights were flooded with a brilliant light, a
magnificent, white glowing. The light did not in one bit reflect
the wickedness of the voice. The light was one of the most pure,
most elegant lights she had ever witnessed in her life.

“Dear Goddess,” Joya whispered, sitting
up in her bed. The light was so brilliant that Joya could not have
seen her hand before her face if she tried. Yet at the same time,
the light was soft enough that it did not hurt her eyes. She peered
into that light, watching it pulse and shimmer in the dark room as
if it were the most alluring thing she could ever witness, and
truth be told it just might have been.

A giggle flooded her mind, and the
light seemed to flutter with the sound, pressing against Joya,
soothing her. She felt elated, loved, warm, and happy. Joya smiled,
wishing this experience to never end.

When the voice spoke again,
Joya was shocked to find that it was still the same wicked,
squeaking voice from before.
Not quite, my
dear, not quite.

“Then who are you?” Joya was desperate
to know who this being was. “Why can I feel you in my very body?
Why can I feel you thrumming through me, as if you and I share the
same heartbeat?” she asked, her voice sounding more and more
desperate with each question. “I need to know, why can I feel you
within me, as well as all around me? Who are you? What are
you?”

In time, dear one,
the voice croaked.
For
now it is time for you to know my instrument.

With that the light coalesced and
condensed into a single shimmering point, brighter than any oil
lamp, but illuminating a portion of the room like a lamp would. The
light settled in the corner at Joya’s bookshelf.

Standing, Joya walked to the bookshelf,
and the light condensed more, until it illuminated one single
binding. With shaky hands, Joya pulled the book from the shelf,
amazed to see the strange geometric pattern and blocky writing of
the book Grace had given her that very morning.

“The math book?” Joya asked
incredulously. “You are here to teach me geometry?” Joya was not at
all happy about being woken by this voice any longer, and she
jammed the book back on the shelf.

Before her hand could leave the binding
though, the book flared back to the bright white color, this time
stinging Joya’s eyes. The birthmark on the back of her neck lanced
pain through her, and Joya fell to her knees, one hand glued to the
book the other flung back to grasp the back of her neck as the pain
arched her back and drew a silent scream from her mouth.

Do not be so
insolent
, the voice said, now sounding
dalua, and no longer the weak, creaking voice of an old hag.
You will either know me, or I will possess you. I
will destroy you, Joya Neferis; I will become every part of
you.
The voice fell silent, and Joya felt
the pain suddenly leave her body. She crumpled to the floor, weak,
crying in pain, and wondering what she had done to aggravate the
voice.

I would much rather you
work with me, rather than being controlled by me.
The soothing voice from before was back, and Joya
felt serene once more, no longer in pain, no longer hated by this
unseen force.

“But it is only geometry,” Joya said
weakly from the floor.

Only geometry?
the voice asked with astonishment.
Maybe you should talk to your sister Angelica
some more to understand the significance of geometry.

“Who are you?” Joya pleaded, rising up
to sit on her knees from where she had fallen on the floor. She was
now speaking to the softly glowing light before her on the
bookshelf.

In time, child, you will
know me but for now, study my instrument,
and then the voice was gone.

A scream tore through the plantation,
and Joya jumped to her feet. She stumbled a bit as the pain had
made her knees incredible weak, and only her hands on the deep set
windowsill stopped her from falling again. Below she saw two green
glowing orbs near the pond, and Joya gasped.

“Amber,” she cried, recognizing who the
scream had come from that brought the entire house to life. As
usual, though Amber’s room was right next to hers, Joya seemed to
be the last to her side.

“What is it, Amber?” Jovian asked, his
hands firm on his sister’s shoulders.

“A hand,” she gasped, tears pouring
down her face, “at the end of the bed … a black hand like death.”
Amber was obviously terrified by what she had seen. “It glowed,
like it was a lamp! Dear Goddess, it was on fire!” She was sobbing
so hard that it was nearly impossible to make out the words that
poured from her trembling lips.

“There is nothing here, darling,” Dauin
said, standing at the foot of her bed in his long robe. “Are you
sure it wasn’t a dream?”

“It was a dream,” Amber confirmed,
rubbing the tears from her eyes. “Yet it was so much more than a
dream. There was a black figure, right where you stand, holding a
blazing dead hand.”

Dauin frowned and shook his head. “It
was only a dream, dear heart. Go back to sleep.” He paced to the
door. “I don’t think it would be wise for you to consume that much
dandelion wine in the future.”

Amber scowled as he left the
room.

“Don’t mind him,” Angelica assured
Amber, sitting at the foot of the bed so that Joya could crowd in
on the opposite side of Jovian to be with her sister. “You know how
Father is when he is woken up like that. However, if all of the
excitement is over, I think I’ll catch the summary of what happened
in the morning.”

“That is fine, Angie,” Amber said,
starting to calm now that others were with her and she could
clearly see that there truly hadn’t been any apparition in the room
with her before her shrill outcry. “I am sure it was nothing to be
worried about, and I am sorry to have woken you. I love you,” she
said, conjuring a smile for the sake of all gathered.

“I love you too,” Angelica returned,
rising. “Don’t worry about it. I would rather be woken by a dream
than sleep through your demise.” Angelica smiled jokingly, though
everyone knew she was serious. Walking from the room she closed the
door silently behind her, and only then did the questions
start.

“So tell me,” Joya fired first,
arranging her wispy white nightgown around her as she comfortably
cradled her knees up on the bed, “what exactly was the dream
about?” The window was open to the warm night. The wind billowed
the curtains against Jovian where he now stood beside them, gazing
out at something his sisters could not see. As Joya listened to the
sound of crickets singing into the night, she wondered if Jovian
was seeing the green orbs she had witnessed before.

What was happening? First Jovian was
attacked by something that Angelica insisted was a dalua dog of the
worst kind, and now Amber had been acting weird and having strange
dreams. Joya shivered at the thought and turned her attention to
Amber as the eldest of the quadruplet’s cleared her voice to
speak.

“It didn’t have a theme, Joya; it was
just an image that flashed into my mind for a brief moment. I
remember a figure swathed in black, and a withered hand blazing in
the darkness at the foot of my bed.” Amber closed her eyes and took
a deep breath; even the memory of that dream seemed to frighten her
beyond belief. “The only other thing I remember was feeling like I
had no control over myself any longer. I think it was the feeling
more than the image that frightened me so.”

Joya frowned and looked over at Jovian.
He was now sitting in a chair beside his sister’s bed, studying her
face.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Amber,”
Jovian said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It
was just a figure, a blazing hand, and terror?”

“Pretty much, like something was coming
that I could not stop.” Amber quivered.

“Well,” Joya said standing, “I think it
is best if you were to get some sleep right now. Would you like me
to stay with you tonight?”

Amber shook her head. “I will be fine I
am sure; it was only a dream like Father said.”

“Well either way, dream or not, it
sounds very disturbing,” Jovian commented, also
standing.

“It was.” That was the last thing
spoken before Joya and Jovian left the room.

CHAPTER SIX

_W
ith classes now in
full
session, Amber still complained of
being sick from the aftermath of the day of the party, but Grace
had assured her that it was nothing more than a cold. The old woman
had given her some tonic and told her cryptically that this cold
would get much worse before it got any better, but the medicine
would help her through it well enough.

Grace and Destra set into the lessons
with a fevered disposition as if they had plotted and planned the
harsh teaching lessons prior to the beginning of classes. Neither
of the women went light on their pupils, and they often found
themselves bogged down with extra sparring lessons and loads of
studies that lasted them until late in the evening.

But worse than the rigorous lessons was
the unseasonably cold wind that seemed to be gaining strength ever
since the night of the party when Amber first felt it. As each day
passed the wind only gained in intensity, making a trip outside to
battle the elements was tiresome for the first day or so, and then
downright hazardous. Before long the only time anyone ventured
outside was to attend to their chores.

Windstorms were not uncommon in the
Holy Realm, and as spring budded they expected weather. However,
this time it was completely different. The windstorms were never
this strong, and Dauin hoped that this was not a new
trend.

As the wind made it all but impossible
to spar outside, lessons took place in the study chamber that Grace
and the five youths occupied during the earlier part of the
day.

“So,” Destra began, pacing back and
forth from one end of the room to the other. “Who can tell me how
to slay a Torzul?” Destra stopped and peered over the five of them
with a critical eye. “Jovian?”

“Torzuls are tall creatures with long
thin arms and long thin legs. Their stomachs are considerably
concave, and their shoulders and backs are humped. The bones of
their ribs and spine are clearly visible; they have pointed ears,
rotten teeth, bald heads, and are a strange shade of grayish-green.
They are thought to be the reanimated bodies of the
dead.”

“Very good, Jovian, though I did not
ask for the physiology. I asked how I would slay one if I happened
upon it.”

“They can be killed like most other
things. There is nothing special you have to do in order to kill a
Torzul, but they often move fast, and their nails are thought to
hold poison. It is more likely that they are thought to be
poisonous because their nails are incredibly dirty,” he
answered.

“And tell me, Amber, what wyrd works
best on a Torzul?” Destra walked over to stand in front of the
girl.

“One would have to play off their
obvious weaknesses,” Amber started. “As they are creatures often
found in the dark of underground tunnels, their weaknesses would
most likely be light, for their eyes are not used to it. This would
cause temporary blindness.”

“Very good, and Joya, how would you
slay a Hecklin?” Destra returned to the front of the
class.

“Well, I wouldn’t slay a Hecklin. I
would run from it,” Joya said truthfully. Destra gave her a blank
look. Apparently she did not approve of the humor.

“I did not ask how your cowardice would
force you to react; I asked how a courageous person would act, so
maybe I should ask Angelica instead.” Destra looked to Angelica,
and Joya squirmed in her chair.

“A Hecklin is a dangerous being, one of
the highest order of dalua dog, second only to the Black Shuck,”
Angelica started. “It is very difficult to kill them, but like all
Dalua Dogs they are weak around the neck. The rest of their body is
like steel, so in order to kill them with a weapon you would have
to remove its head.”

“Using wyrd, how would you kill one
with wyrd?”

“Lightning, or by a burst of Holy Magic
from the Goddess, though no one alive possesses that type of magic
any longer.”

The wind howled wickedly around the
plantation, and Destra walked to the window where she stared out
for some time in silence. “What about Baba Yaga?” she asked
absently, her mind obviously turned to the windstorm outside. “Who
can tell me about Baba Yaga?”