Cursed Bones: Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five (6 page)

“I don’t understand,” Isabel said. “Why do you think your father was so enamored with her if she was so ugly?”

“I don’t know,” Ayela said, shaking her head slowly. “What I do know is that I’ve never seen anything so dark, so wrong, or so frightening. Not until I saw the things Phane sent against us on the night the rest of my family died.”

Isabel’s mind raced. “You mean the Sin’Rath are demons?”

“I think so,” Ayela whispered.

“Have you told your father or your brother about your suspicions?”

“No,” she said. “Every man who goes to see them is changed somehow, they come to believe the witches are working for the betterment of Karth and our people, they suddenly change their opinions on a host of issues and begin to work toward new goals. My father always issues a bunch of orders right after he takes their counsel.”

Ayela paused, wiping a tear from her cheek with a trembling hand.

“Now Trajan has gone to see them and the same thing has happened,” she said. “He’s my best friend. I know his heart better than any. Before he went to meet with them, he confided in me that he intended to reject their counsel and demand that they stop meddling in the affairs of the people of Karth.”

She shook her head sadly, another tear sliding slowly down her face.

“When he returned, he spoke only praise for them. He said the one he met was the most beautiful woman in the world. He said he understood why Father thought so highly of their counsel, even though they cost us our family.

“My father brought the warning he received in his dreams to them and they told him to ignore it, they told him it was just a dream, they told him that the Regency would not attack … but they did, and half my family died, not to mention countless thousands of innocent people. Now my brother has fallen under their spell and I have no one else I can trust.”

She placed a small vial of clear liquid on the counter.

“This will counteract the effects of the malaise weed they’ve been giving you,” Ayela said. “You must drink it all at once and it will take a minute or so for it to take effect. Once it does, the malaise will vanish.”

“Why are you giving me this?” Isabel asked.

“Your husband sent the warning that saved my life, saved my father and brother,” she said. “I can’t trust anyone here; the witches have their fingers into everything and everyone in this fortress. I don’t know what they’re planning, but I do know they’re up to something since you’ve arrived.”

“I’ve offered your father an alliance against Phane,” Isabel said. “It could be that they’ve decided to accept my offer and they’re just making preparations.”

“You could be right,” Ayela said, “but things have a way of happening in the background, when no one is looking, after my father speaks to the witches. Please don’t tell anyone about this conversation, and remember, don’t trust the men … any of them.”

“What will you do?” Isabel asked as Ayela stood to leave.

“Try to save what’s left of my family,” she said. “This passage opens by pressing here,” she pointed to a stone that blended in with the rest of the wall. “Use it only at great need. If they discover you’re missing, they’ll probably kill you on sight when they find you.”

She smiled sadly at Isabel in the dim light and whispered, “It’s good to have a friend.” And then she was gone and the hidden passage closed behind her.

“Yes, it is,” Isabel whispered to herself, looking at the vial of clear liquid she’d been given. “I just hope you’re not really an assassin.”

***

She woke to a knock at the door. A maidservant entered with a tray of breakfast, an assortment of unusual foods collected from the jungle. She sampled them all and found the few she liked before eating her fill. Trajan arrived several minutes later as she was sipping her tea.

“Good morning,” he said with a broad smile, “I trust you slept well.”

“A bed always beats a bedroll,” Isabel said.

“I have good news,” he said. “The Sin’Rath have agreed that my father should form an alliance with you. With your help, they think we can defeat Phane once and for all.” He was almost giddy.

“I thought you didn’t trust the Sin’Rath,” she said.

“Oh, that was just foolishness on my part,” he said. “I met Clotus last night, she’s one of the witches my father takes his counsel from.” He smiled boyishly. “My father told me they’re beautiful, but I had no idea. She was stunning, easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

Isabel tensed slightly and her awareness sharpened.

“They want to meet you,” he said. “It’s unheard of, they never speak to women, never, but they want to meet you. Today. It’s such an honor for you. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think they’re going to invite you into their coven.”

Isabel said nothing while her mind raced. She was suddenly feeling very uneasy, but she was hopeful that the opportunity to form a meaningful alliance still existed.

“I look forward to it,” she said when she realized Trajan was looking at her expectantly. “Hopefully, together we can come up with a plan to strike back against Phane,” she added.

“I have to say,” Trajan said, “I feel better about our situation today than I have since this war started. We’ve been living under a truce with the Regency for decades. Sure, we’ve had occasional border disputes and even a few battles, but mostly we’ve been at a stalemate. Once Phane’s gone, we can get beck to normal, to the way things are supposed to be.”

Isabel frowned but held her tongue.

“Everything’s going to be all right now. You’ll see,” he said as he left, bowing with a flourish.

His behavior was so out of character that Isabel felt a chill creep up her spine. She didn’t know what to expect from the Sin’Rath but she was starting to dread meeting them. Even with her magic, she was no match for a whole coven. So the direct approach was out. That left subterfuge, not her strong suit.

Chapter 6

The guard took off her blindfold.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling open a large oak door.

She’d been led through a confusing maze of passages, up stairs and then down, until she was thoroughly lost under the stone of the hidden underground fortress. Trajan had told her that the Sin’Rath were very security-conscious, so she wouldn’t be allowed to know how to find them within the mountain … that he didn’t even know. A fact that didn’t seem to bother him, but one that did bother Isabel.

In the short time she’d known Trajan, he’d shown himself to be cautious and inquisitive, prone to gathering information before making decisions. Since his meeting with the witches, he’d come to trust them implicitly, laughing off any questions about their intent and accepting their guidance without hesitation.

Isabel looked into a roughly circular room, carved out of a cave. The walls rose at a steep angle until they fell away into shadow. Around the edge of the room, a magic circle was carved into the floor. Each of the magic symbols etched into the stone appeared to be filled with dried blood. Sunlight streamed into the room from a hole in the cave ceiling far above, filling the well of the room with light while shrouding the balcony above in impenetrable shadows.

Isabel stepped into the room, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. As she surveyed her surroundings, the door closed behind her and the bar was dropped into place. Scattered about the floor were the remnants of people … a scrap of clothing here, a piece of bone there. Fear started to build within her. She thought about the draught given to her by Ayela but rejected the idea … at least for now.

A rustling noise came from above in the shadows—it sounded like a dozen or so people filing into the balcony. She waited.

“You are from the Reishi Coven,” a raspy voice said.

“Yes,” Isabel said.

What followed made her blood run cold. The balcony erupted into a chorus of barking, snarling, mewling, and howling. It was almost animal in nature, but darker. When the cacophony of beastly noises subsided, another voice spoke, this one cloying and sweet.

“We have an agreement,” she cooed, “your coven is not welcome here.”

“I was unaware of any such agreement,” Isabel said, a bit confused. She wondered what Magda might know about the Sin’Rath.

“We should eats her,” a guttural voice barked.

“Yes, we should eats her,” a mewling voice agreed.

“No!” the raspy voice said. “She may prove useful.”

“But I’m hungry,” the mewling voice said.

A snarl from one side of the chamber followed by a menacing growl from the other silenced the mewling voice.

“Why are you here?” the raspy voice asked.

“I’ve come to kill Phane,” Isabel said.

Again the balcony erupted into chaos—howling madness filling the air.

“Silence!” shouted the raspy voice. The howling turned to mewling and then grudging silence.

“We hates him,” the mewling voice whimpered.

“What makes you think you can kill Phane?” the raspy voiced asked.

“Yes, he is most powerful,” the cloying voice said.

“He thinks he’s turned me into his puppet,” Isabel said, struggling to keep the trembling out of her voice.

“Puppet?” the mewling voice asked with rising alarm. “What if she’s been sent to bait a trap for us?” her question trailed off into a petulant whine.

The raspy voice ignored her. “Why would you be his puppet?”

“He’s summoned Azugorath,” Isabel said. “Through her magic, he’s trying to subvert my free will.” She decided the truth was in order. From the sounds of things, she didn’t want to risk being caught in a lie.

The chamber erupted again, but this time the majority of the noises were more whining and whimpering than barking and howling.

“Mother’s sister is in the world?” the mewling voice whined.

Several other voices growled at her viciously.

“Silence, you fool,” the raspy voice said.

“She can’t be trusted,” the cloying voice said.

“No, not with Azugorath’s tendril in her,” the guttural voice said.

“We should eats her,” the mewling voice said.

“Not yet,” the raspy voice barked.

Isabel didn’t like where this conversation was going. “We both have the same enemy … Phane,” she said.

“We hates him,” the mewling voice said.

“We should eats him,” the guttural voice barked.

“We will,” the raspy voice said.

“I can get close to him,” Isabel said.

“Then what?” the guttural voice barked.

“I drive my dagger into his heart.”

“No!” the mewling voice wailed. She was immediately silenced by several snarls and growls.

“What about the Goiri?” a very reasonable voice asked.

“No!” the guttural voice barked.

“Too dangerous,” the raspy voice said.

“We could sends her,” the mewling voice said.

“How much do you want to kill Phane?” the reasonable voice asked.

“He’s driven a wedge between me and my husband and cut me off from everyone I love. I would rather die than become the thing he wants me to be.”

“She sounds committed,” the reasonable voice said.

“I am,” Isabel said.

“The Goiri may be the only way,” the reasonable voice said.

“No,” the cloying voice said, “there’s another way—a doppelganger spell.”

“Yes,” the guttural voice said.

“It could work,” the raspy voice said.

“But who would go?” the mewling voice asked. “Not me.”

“I will,” the cloying voice said.

“If you fail, he will kill you,” the reasonable voice said.

“If I succeed, then Mother will be free,” the cloying voice said.

“You fool,” the guttural voice said.

“You reveal too much,” the raspy voice said.

“No matter,” the reasonable voice said, “we need only keep her alive until the task is complete.”

“Then we can eats her,” the mewling voice said.

“Yes, Sister,” the reasonable voice said.

“We are agreed then?” the raspy voice said.

A chorus of barks and snarls followed. As the Sin’Rath filed out of the balcony and left her alone in the room, Isabel stood stock-still, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Nearly an hour passed before she heard the bar being lifted.

The door opened and a creature that should not exist entered, smiling wickedly. She had dark grey skin … one eye a smoldering red, the other a sickening yellow, both with the irises of a cat … pointed teeth, the left canine extending past her lower lip, leaving a festering welt where it rubbed. Her long dark grey hair was patchy and stringy, coated in grime. Two-inch horns protruded from her forehead, curving toward one another. She was hunched over, her right shoulder and arm grotesquely larger than the left, both hands ending in long fingers tipped with razor-sharp black talons. She walked with a limp, each step revealing a barbed tail whipping back and forth behind her. Despite her contorted features, her face was perfectly formed, with high cheek bones and perfect bone structure. The contrast between the beauty of her facial structure and the grotesqueness of her body only served to heighten the sense of wrongness that radiated from her in undulating waves.