Bound By Blood (6 page)

             
Monéaklá
and
Samanthŕa
were like oil and water.
The two had been fighting for centuries
,
it seeme
d. Why, even their mothers
fought. In fact, the only reason Dĩas
lay
with Monéak
lá's monster--dearest and she with Dĩas
, was to spite Chymeŕah. With the M
ãrquis
ŕa,
everything
revolved around power.

             
“I have come to tell you that
our
father wishes to see you in the Great Hall
.
Might I add, h
e is none
too
happy either. Seems he thinks you are behind this storm and I can’t say as I blame him. You are always plaguing us with one curse or another
.
I wish he would just destroy you and rid us of having to deal with you
any further.” Monéaklá
threw up a hand with a wave, and
literally hissed
.

             
Sam
anthŕa
knew
Monéaklá
loathed
her
curious
ways, which
always led her to discovering
new
things that
should not
be discovered.
Her naive curiosity
brought the horrors home making the rest of them suffer for it.
It was obvious
Monéaklá still
carried a grudge for
the time
Samanthŕa
found a box buried in the old ruins known as the Goddess’
s
womb.
S
he opened the thing right in front of
Monéaklá
causing her to be attacked with pestilence and blindness.
Oh h
ow the sores festered with such
excruciating
pain
,
until
Dĩas
finally found
a cure to the affliction
. Monéaklá
missed the masquerade ball that year
, all
because of
the High Priestess's
mischief
,
and even now
,
Samanthŕa
couldn’t help but giggle when she thought back on it.

             
And Monéaklá made sure to moan and groan for all to hear that i
n the end, instead of
Samanthŕa
being punished,
Dĩas simply
babied her as always
.
She would say with deadly sarcasm
, daringly, if not foolishly, mocking her version of Dĩas
. . .

             
“
E
veryone ha
s
to overlook
dear
Samanthŕa for
accidentally stumbling onto things like that.
P
oor
,
dear
Samanthŕa
i
s just drawn to find such objects without knowing it.
Everyone please turn the other cheek for poor, poor
Samanthŕa
simply cannot help herself!"

             
And then she would break out into a rant for anyone who would listen.
"
Samanthŕa gets
away with murder.
I wish she
would die a thousand unspeakable deaths.
Why don't we all make a game of it, and see how many we can make happen!
”
             

             
“
Monéaklá
,
stop
being such a bitter wench
,
”
Dezarãe
whispered low
in a very simmering but seething way.
“I am sick
to death of
your
desperate attempts to see
Samanthŕa hung
from the
G
reat
H
all rafters.
”

             
Monéaklá shot
her a look
that would strike down the gods
,
but before
her serpent
’
s
tongue could spea
k
the
venom
of
it
,
Sam
anthŕa stepped
in
placing herself between the two
.

             
“I hate to disappoint you
,
Monéaklá
,
but this storm is
not
my hand
iwork
.
If it were, I'd have it swallow you up."

             
"Only to vomit her back up," Dezarãe gave her two cents.

             
"
Of
course,
if you had any gifts at
all
you'
d know this.
" Samanthŕa made sure to add. "
Oh wait, that reminds me,
you have no gifts
,
do you? Maybe that’s why
I
am High Priestess and
you
a
r
e
not. Oh my, did I just
speak such truths out loud
?”
She
smile
d
without remorse
. 

             
Monéaklá
turned and started to stamp out
of the room
.
The
veins in her neck looked as though they might explode. Her rage
clearly
consumed her.
“
Some night,
even if it t
akes
a hundred years,
I
w
ill
see
you suffer
, Samanthŕa Lampiŕ, and
when
that time comes
,
I will
, be
standing
right
there,
savoring
every minute of it
.”
             
Her hand fisted the handle of her exit.

             
“
Look
,
Dezarãe,
there she goes using the door.
Tell me, i
s that by choice
,
Monéaklá
,
or is it
simply
because you haven’t enough
power
to m
ist your
self three feet without becoming stuck inside
a wall?”
Samanthŕa made
sure to throw a few more chunks of salt on
her
wounds.

             
Dezarãe nearly
fell over
, s
he was laughing so hard
,
as Samanthŕa stood there
show
ing not one
trace
of guilt.

             
Monéaklá deserved
what she got. There wasn’t a night that went by that she didn’t try to get one of them into trouble
, poisoned, or worse
. This was yet another
symptom of
how corrupt their families were becoming. It was hard to know who was a true sister or brother
, w
ho was truly loyal
,
and who kept to the old ways.

             
And j
ust as they thought she would leave and stop plaguing them with her foul company,
Monéaklá
,
turned around with eyes that wished
a thousand
miseries to
befall them both. “Worry not for me and
my
power
,
sister.
”

             
“Or
you mean,
lack
thereof
,” Samanthŕa butted in something like a chopping block
.
Dezarãe spewed more wine all over the floor.

             
“
Worry
for yourself
,
” Monéaklá raged
, would have her say
,
“
b
ecause
Dĩas does
not appear to be very pleased with you right now.
Your
charms will
not
save you this time
…
” She slammed the
heavy
wooden
door
,
carved with ancient symbols
that seared away her negativity with a thick blue light
. Her cursing
, though,
was loud enough to extend beyond the deep
stone
walls
,
as she
no doubtingly
marched away.

             
“Great Goddess, what do you think crawled up
her
skirts this evening?”
Dezarãe
asked
.

             
“
That’s
her problem.
Nothing
crawled up them
at all.”
This was just another reason
for
Samanthŕa to
dislike and mistrust
Monéaklá
. Her family, the
Mãrquis
ŕa
, was a cause for concern. They had forgotten the old ways and it showed. Their hearts were turning
,
even if
Dĩas and
the Elders told
Samanthŕa she
was crazy for believing so.

             
L
ike the
ancient Vlachŕa of the Lyc
ãon screamed
,
Samanthŕa,
w
as
seeing disturbing changes within their families. She couldn’t blame the
Lycãons
for
distancing them
selves from the other families
.
She would do the same if she had not taken an oath
to serve
all
of TE
ŔAH and of the Goddess
as High Priestess.
Turning her back would be too easy. No, it was her duty to keep her bloodlines strong . . . and as one.

             
Samanthŕa turned
around and looked back toward
s
the storm brewing over the mountains
.
“
I am more concerned with what
our
f
ather
wants
,
”
s
he
admitted
.
He couldn’t possibly think
she
was behind this storm, could he?

             
And even more so than that, even s
till, her dream bothered her. She was forewarned of the Storm
,
and that
it was--
time.