“You are no use to us now,” Evann-Sin threw at him.
Kaibyn flinched, but he made no comment to that remark. He sighed heavily then turned to Rabin. “Think you could find the Magi?”
“I think they’ll find us,” Rabin answered. “I saw two riders headed this way.”
Kaibyn nodded. “You are probably right.”
“And just what good will the Magi be to us?” Evann-Sin growled. “Can they go after my lady?”
“No, but they will find someone who can,” Kaibyn answered.
“You won’t,” Evann-Sin accused.
“I
can’t
,” Kaibyn stressed. “Do you not understand she is in the Abyss, and I dare not go back there for fear of being imprisoned in that wasteland once again?”
“All I understand is that you allowed that bitch to carry my lady away from us,” Evann-Sin replied.
Lilabet got up from her chair and walked to the window where Kaibyn stood. She, too, could see riders coming toward the keep. They were the only living things upon the Plains of Celadohr. Everything else had been put to the flame in the giant pit dug by one of the demon’s mysterious beasts.
“Did you see Meritaten and Dakhla among the Undead?” she asked her lover.
Kaibyn nodded. “They are no more.” A muscle ground in his lean cheek. “I saw to that.”
The queen drew in a long breath. “I saw them as we were trying to escape.” She shuddered. “They were dead, and I do not know why they were together. Dakhla should have been with her husband. Meritaten was supposed to have been well protected in the seraglio.”
“Dakhla plotted my death with Oded,” Kaibyn said through tightly held teeth. “She got what she deserved. Meritaten was her friend, although I doubt she knew what Dakhla plotted.”
“To be the new queen?” Lilabet asked.
“Aye,” Kaibyn agreed.
Rubbing her forehead where a headache throbbed, Lilabet sighed once more. “I should have known what she was about. Meritaten did not have that many friends.”
“That friendship cost her her life,” Kaibyn said.
“You…” Lilabet’s pretty face crinkled. “You did not see her here, did you? On the battlements with the rest of the…” She waved her hand. “You know.”
“No,” Kaibyn lied. “She was not among those who tried to overrun us.”
Laying her head on the demon’s strong shoulder, Lilabet closed her eyes. “Thank the Prophetess for that.”
Kaibyn put his arms around his lady, but his thoughts were on Dakhla and Meritaten. He had sprayed them both with liquid fire, taking great delight in the snarling horror that registered on Dakhla’s betraying face.
“She is at rest, milady,” the demon whispered. “Her soul is at rest.”
Rabin had become accustomed to Kaibyn Zafeyr’s moods and he knew the man was lying. He glanced over at Evann-Sin, but that warrior was still locked deep in his tortured thoughts. Once more he turned his attention to the approaching riders, and drew in a deep breath. “The Magi are here.”
Kaibyn nodded. “Aye. We should go down to greet them.”
“Give them my regards,” Evann-Sin snapped.
Rabin started to say something but the demon shook his head. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, looked pointedly at King Numair then departed the throne room, everyone except Evann-Sin leaving with him.
His heart breaking, his hands clenched so tightly at his side that his fingernails had dug deeply into the flesh of his palms, the warrior stared out across the plains, but did not see the vista stretched out before him. For how long he stood there in silence, he would never know, but when he felt the presence of another in the room, he turned his head and glared at the intruder.
“She is alive, milord,” Jabali said quietly.
“You think so?” Evann-Sin sneered.
“No, milord,” Jabali replied. “I know so. Queen Lilit will not hurt your lady before the child is born and even then, I doubt she will do harm to Tamara until the boy has reached puberty.”
The warrior’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Child?” he repeated. “My lady is with child?”
Jabali nodded. “Though she is as forlorn as are you, she is in good health.”
“My child?” Evann-Sin whispered.
Once more the Mage nodded. “And though Lord Kaibyn can not go after her because…”
“Because he’s a coward!” the warrior interrupted.
“Have you any notion of what the Abyss is like, milord?” Jabali inquired.
“I am told my lady is there and that is all I need to know!”
“Lord Kaibyn was imprisoned there for over three hundred years before Lady Dakhla summoned him. He has known only a year of freedom. Can you imagine how horrible would be his return to that evil place?”
“Do you think I care?”
The Mage’s placid face turned hard. “You should, because if you are to retrieve your lady from that hellish place, you need to know everything there is to know of it!”
“And how am I to do that?” Evann-Sin shouted. He took a step toward the Mage.
Jabali was not threatened by the warrior’s stance. He folded his arms, stood his ground and stared steadily back at Evann-Sin.
Unnerved by the unwavering gaze, the warrior relaxed his posture slightly. He was wound as tightly as a clock spring, aching for a fight, needing something to hit, but he instinctively knew he’d lose in a fight with the Mage. Plowing his hand through his hair, he backed off, putting distance between them. “What is it you think I can do?” he queried.
“You can become One with the Blood,” Jabali declared.
The right side of the warrior’s mouth lifted in a tired grin. “Is that all?” he asked.
“There is a man,” the Mage said, “who lives on an island off the coast of Chale. He can help you.”
“By doing what? Taking my life?”
“
Changing
your life,” Jabali corrected. “Cainer Cree is a Reaper.”
A deep frown formed on the warrior’s handsome face. “A Reaper. What is that?”
“A Reaper is a being who must partake of blood to thrive. During certain times of the year, he Transitions and when he does, he becomes part wolf.”
Evann-Sin arched an eyebrow. “A wolf?” he asked in a droll tone.
Jabali smiled. “Cainer was the second of his kind, having been changed by the treachery of a very vindictive woman long ago.”
“I gather she didn’t like him.”
“On the contrary, she was deeply in love with him. She was obsessed with him. By all accounts, he was the most handsome man to ever walk the face of his world. He was a warrior among warriors, a powerful leader.”
“How is it that I have never heard of this mighty warrior?”
The Mage spread his hands. “Because Cainer Cree is not of our world. He came from a world far from our own, from a time thousands of years in our future. He came from beyond the stars.”
Evann-Sin sighed. “Well, of course, he did.” When the Mage would have chastised him, he held up a hand. “So how do you know what happened in that time yet to come?”
Jabali sighed. “Much of it I learned from Cainer himself.”
“Did it occur to you he might be deranged or possibly lying?”
Sha
king his head, Jabali sighed again, louder. “No, milord. Such a thought never crossed my mind and besides, he has several scholarly journals from that time and place though they are all but crumbling into dust now.”
“That’s convenient,” the warrior scoffed.
“Please put aside your flippancy, milord,” Jabali snapped. “If you want your lady back, it must be through Cainer Cree. I can not help you otherwise!”
Evann-Sin lowered his eyes. “I apologize, Master. Please go on.”
“Though it is our future from which he came, it was into the distant past for him. He journeyed through a portal he called a wormhole, striving to escape a woman intent upon killing him.”
“He ran from a woman,” Evann-Sin snorted. “And he did so crawling down a wormhole. How big is this warrior?”
Jabali waved a dismissive hand. “Stop thinking with your ego and listen to what I am trying to tell you!”
Evann-Sin looked hurt. “It was a legitimate question, Master. If he is small enough to…” He stopped. “How big was this wormhole?”
“Large enough that a fleet of ships could pass through side-by-side, he told me.”
Shock registered on the warrior’s face. “How big was the damned worm that made it?”
Sighing as though he were being sorely tested, the Mage covered his cheeks with his hands and shook his head.
“Never mind the worm, then. What of this woman? Am I to understand she was dangerous?”
“A very determined as well as dangerous woman. Her name was Zenia, the wife of a minor official in Cainer’s government. From the first moment she saw the warrior she was obsessed with him. Wherever Cainer went, she was there waiting. Whatever he did, she was there to watch. She sent him missive after missive, asking to meet with him. She surreptitiously acquired certain belongings of his. He could go nowhere that she did not follow, even to distant worlds beyond his own. When at last she found him alone one evening, she threw herself at him, but he wanted no part of what she had to offer. He was in love with another and fully intended to take that lady to wife as soon as his Tribunal sanctioned his courtship of her.”
“I bet that went over big with Zenia,” Evann-Sin chuckled.
“She thought she would eventually wear him down, but she underestimated both Cainer and his ability to ignore her. Despite using every trick such women have in their seductive repertoires, Cainer did not—would not—succumb to her advances. At the end of his rope, embarrassed by her persistency, tired of her constant attempts to seduce him, he threatened to have her arrested if she did not leave him alone. By all rights, he should have killed her—or had her slain—but such was not his way.”
“I can understand that. Although I entertained thoughts of killing the women who attacked me, I never would have.”
Jabali did not remind the warrior that in essence he had killed those women, for they had been among the Undead that had attacked the palace walls.
“What did this Zenia do when he threatened to imprison her?”
“There is an old saying that there is nothing more lethal than a woman scorned. Enraged, she looked for a devastating way to get back at him. She tried to hire an assassin, but not even the lowest scum would dare an attempt on the life of a man such as Cainer Cree. Such was his reputation that all men feared him.”
“He told you this?”
“Aye.”
“He’s rather full of himself, isn’t he?” Evann-Sin chuckled.
The Mage ignored the comment. “In desperation, Zenia decided if the deed were to be done, she would have to be the one to accomplish it. Knowing she could never take him in any conventional way, she began scouring medical tomes in search of a poison so potent, so devastating he would die in unbelievable agony. If she could not have him, she was determined no woman ever would, and as he lay writhing in anguish she would make sure he knew who had taken his life.”
“Nasty bitch.”
“A very determined one,” Jabali stated.
“Did she find such a poison?”
“She came across a text written by an obscure Healer that spoke of a plant that grew deep in the rainforests of Resuello, a remote region on another world. It stated that this plant, a fern called lycant, had growing upon its fronds a very deadly fungus. Upon this fungus were highly toxic spores. Inhalation of the spores caused hideous consequences to any creature that became infected with its virulent spores. The afflicted creature would convulse in torment, its bones cracking, its flesh turning to leathery consistency, its body splitting apart even as it breathed. So deadly, so dangerous was this fern, it was strongly advised that the fern be located and completely eradicated. A footnote stated that no action had been taken on the Healer’s recommendation for fear anyone sent to destroy it might become contaminated with its spores.”
“She somehow harvested some of the spores, though,” Evann-Sin said.
Jabali nodded. “Aye, that she did.”
Evann-Sin cocked his head to one side. “You said he is the second of his kind. Was she the first?”
Again, Jabali nodded. “Such was her crazed commitment to avenge his spurning of her, she journeyed to this place alone. Wearing what Cainer explained to me was a special suit of armor she thought would protect her from the spores, she ventured into the rainforest and gathered the fungus that grew on the underside of the plant. As she was scraping the fronds, some of the black spores escaped and began floating around her, sticking to her armor. She was shocked to look down and see the spores crawling about upon her armor, seemingly trying to find a way inside its protection. Terrified, she threw down the vial into which she had been scraping the spores and started to flee. But she slipped on the decaying foliage beneath her boots and lost her balance, falling into a sharp thorn bush. One of the thick thorns punctured the suit of armor to the right of her spine, near the base, and stuck into her flesh.”
“Oops,” Evann-Sin observed.
“As you can imagine, the spores got inside the suit of armor and when she pulled free of the thorn found their way into her bleeding wound.”